


Had I Loved You Once

by caryatidonvacation



Category: Gone With the Wind - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23634226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caryatidonvacation/pseuds/caryatidonvacation
Summary: Their marriage is over despite Scarlett's best efforts to get Rhett back. Devastated, Scarlett tries to rebuild her life without him until a terrible accident causes her to lose almost all memory from her past. Can Scarlett remember the love she once had or will all be lost forever?
Relationships: Rhett Butler/Scarlett O'Hara
Comments: 19
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. I own nothing in regards to Gone With The Wind, and no money is being made from this fanfiction.

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."

Rhett's dark eyes were hard, unyielding. There was not a trace of tenderness here; there was no love. His eyes narrowed and he cocked his eyebrows ever so slightly. He was angry- rightfully so. Rhett's icy look sent a chill down Scarlett's spine, but what's more: a sharp stab of pain through her chest.

A moment passed where they stood staring at each other before he turned, clearing the foyer in four steps. He reached for the coat rack next to the front door where he removed his jacket and hat. He folded his long coat over his left arm and held his curled brim, flared crown hat in his right. There was a silent beat of an instant where Rhett took in a long, slow breath in a vain attempt to calm himself. His blood was pounding- coursing through his body in a simmering rage. His anger flowed, pooling in a vein behind his left eye where it throbbed as a continuous: hurt, hurt, hurt.

Slowly, Rhett turned back to where he had left Scarlett standing, dumbfounded, at the base of the grand staircase. He caught her emerald green cat eyes and immediately regretted it. He could see his own anguish reflected in her porcelain face. Her eyes were wide and her brows furrowed meeting at a little wrinkle right at the bridge of her nose. She was confused and a little accusatory.

With tremendous effort, Rhett steeled himself and swallowed hard. Without breaking his gaze, he placed his hat on top of his head. For a moment Scarlett thought there was a flickering light of grief that crept into his gaze, but it went as quick as it came. Again, the cool, determined look was back.

Scarlett watched him, silent and stunned. Despite the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, she did not yet feel the heady emotions that came with a departing lover. She only felt numb. It struck her that at that moment she felt as if she were watching someone else's life unfold before her. She was not standing in the foyer of her home watching her husband leave her. Her husband- her beloved husband- who she had expressed her love for just moments before was not gathering his belongings. Rhett did not tell her he was leaving her. In Scarlett's dissociative haze, Rhett was not turning to open the front door and she was not gripping the handrail until her knuckles turned white.

The click of the lock as Rhett turned the door handle sounded like a grand boom in the silent vestibule pulling Scarlett out of her dissociative calm. Suddenly, this was all too real. Scarlett frantically started, moving towards Rhett as terror exploded inside of her. How would she get on without Rhett? He had been the only constant in her life for over a decade. She relied on him more than she knew. She loved him. She _loved_ him, damn it. She had loved him for years but was too insolent to understand, for what did she know of love? No one before Rhett had ever shown her real, genuine affection. She hadn't recognized it when it crept its way into her heart all those years ago. She clung to her Ashley Wilkes security blanket.

Ashley: a juvenile representation of her childhood. Ashley represented everything Scarlett had lost throughout the war. He was her age of innocence, but there was no more innocence. She hadn't known innocence since before the war when the biggest concern was who she would dance with at the next garden party. What a fool she had been. What a stubborn, idiotic fool she had been for trying so desperately to cling to a moment in time when she was unabashedly happy and force those around her to partake in her charade.

Rhett bent down and grabbed his suitcase in his large hand. This time he refused to look back. He would not see the myriad of emotions dancing across Scarlett's face. Rhett refused to be moved by her tears.

"Rhett, no." Scarlett managed. The plea caught in her throat and tumbled from her lips in a barely audible whisper. She reached out a trembling hand and took a step forward. She laid a pleading hand on his wrist. "Please wait, my love."

Rhett flinched. My. Love. Something about those two syllables shattered his calm resolve. The vein behind his eye seemed to burst. Burning white rage blinded him momentarily, but when he came to he was livid and shaking. How could she have the audacity to call him her love? Rhett turned his head. Scarlett noticed that every movement was calculated.

"Are you a masochist, Scarlett?"

Had Scarlett not been standing inches from him, she would not have thought that the sentence came from her husband. The steely coolness in his voice was deceptive. His voice was low and the words slipped from between his teeth like a snarl.

"I am tired, Scarlett." Rhett turned his face away from her. "How else can I make it apparent to you that I do not want you? I do not love you. I can barely stand the sight of you as it is. Now, please love, if you wouldn't mind…" Rhett pulled his arm from her grasp, opened the door, and stepped out into the foggy night.

Scarlett was frozen in place, the emotional blow temporarily rendering her immobile. How could this be happening? Hadn't they shared their bed recently? She remembered that night. He was angry then, too. He had pinned her to his body, seeking her lips in an unrecognized need. He tasted of brandy and stale cigarettes that night. She recalled him carrying her up the steps and into her room. He had torn her clothes off, ravenous for her body. He was initially rough but when she had finally opened to him, he found solace in her curves. He caressed her neck, breasts, and waist. His lips had softened around her collarbone. She had sworn he whispered that he loved her.

It dawned on Scarlett that that moment of intense passion was nearly a year ago. He had been terribly inebriated that night. She sadly recalled that after that night of passion everything had changed. There was no more love in his eyes. A cry escaped her and she flung open the half-closed door. "Rhett! Rhett, come back!"

She took off down the street falling freely into the foggy abyss. She could barely see a foot in front of her, but she kept running. She kept running for all the years she has missed. She kept running in the hopes of salvaging her marriage. She kept running for him.

Tears clouded her vision and her hair whipped wildly in the wind sticking to the tracks of tears on her cheeks. She felt strangely like she was being strangled. It was as if the fog was enveloping her whole, sucking her down into the depths of its belly and suffocating her. She called out to Rhett again.

It struck Scarlett, as she rounded again upon the house on Peachtree Street that she knew he was truly gone. She had assumed she had run into the center of town to meet the ghosts of Atlanta. Instead, she was lost in her own town. She wondered if Rhett had gone to see Belle. The thought overwhelmed her and she cried out. Her knees gave way under her and she reached out to steady herself on a nearby fence.

She stood there gathering herself for a long while as silent tears stained her cheeks. "He will come back," she told herself softly. "He will come back. He always comes back to me."

Even as the words escaped her lips she knew the sentiment was a lie. In the past, he had always returned, yes, but there was never so much hatred in his stare. He had never looked at her as if he regretted every decision he had made to get him to this moment.

Scarlett took in a shaky breath and straightened her shoulders. In a daze, she turned around and started for home. The numbness had set back in. She didn't remember the walk home nor did she realize she was still crying. She didn't notice that Prissy met her at the door of her home. Scarlett didn't hear Prissy when she asked if Scarlett were all right. The slow climb up the grand staircase was a blur. The blanket of numbness engulfed her. It was only after she had closed the door to her room did she remember the terrible ache in her heart that threatened to burst. It was only then that she, Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler understood that for the first time in her life, was alone.


	2. Chapter Two

Alone. What a foreign concept, Scarlett mused as she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling in a daze. Scarlett wasn’t sure she had ever been alone before- not truly. Lonely, yes but never alone. The grief that had settled over Scarlett in the wake of Rhett’s departure was weightier than she could have ever imagined. She was… tired. So very tired.  
It was six in the morning and despite her exhaustion she had not been able to sleep more than a few restless moments. Scarlett has collapsed on her bed fully clothed and she woke fitfully with her wrinkled skirts everywhere. She looked down at herself. She felt as crumpled as her dress. She started tearing at the fabric around her breasts weakly before her hands fell back to the bed. She was too exhausted.

Alone. A house full of staff, two inconsolable children, and her unrelenting, frenetic thoughts and yet she was acutely aware that she had never felt more alone. Lonelier, even, than during the war when she lost all sense of herself in the vain attempt to find the old glory of antebellum Tara.

Tara.

Oh god how she longed to visit her own personal Mecca; the embodiment of her paradise. Scarlett felt the familiar tug of her spirit at the passing thought of Tara and her rich, red soil. A piece of her was calling home, but the call was answered with hollowness of heart. She was longing for her sweet, beautiful Tara and yet it was telling her to wait.

Scarlett wasn’t ready for Tara despite the guttural desire to take fistfuls of the mahogany colored in her palms. There were so many memories there- both wonderful and terrible. Her family flourished and died there. The only person still at the plantation with half as much love and respect for that land was Will Benteen. She could not go back yet, not when it would mean adding another dark shadow to it’s storied history.

She had responsibilities. Scarlett must plan Melanie’ funeral. Ashley and India were too indisposed to be helpful. Just last night India Wilkes had sent four separate letters asking her to please assist her former sister and brother in law with the burial preparations for Melly. Anger tore through Scarlett for a brief moment when the fourth letter came. That entire family, save Ashley, could not bear to be in the same room as her and yet when it mattered the most they asked for her help. Scarlett briefly thought it was because they believed her to be heartless. Maybe that was the case. Maybe the Wilkes believed that because Scarlett never showed her emotions that she must be emotionless. It didn’t matter that she felt as if her entire world were collapsing beneath her feet. Ask Scarlett. She can handle it. 

Scarlett had the mind to decline the pleas for help and send back all of India’s letters in a momentary fit of rage. Let the Wilkes take care of the particulars. When she sat down at her writing desk, however, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Melly was her best friend. The only friend she had ever known. Scarlett knew she would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t help Melly one last time. 

So Scarlett promised India that she would make the necessary arrangements. Truth be told, Scarlett knew she needed something to preoccupy her mind. She could not think about Rhett or Melanie. She could not imagine her life without the two people she cherished the most. Later, when the funeral was over, she would figure out her next step. 

Scarlett tried to swallow the lump in her through fat the thought of Melanie but instead chocked on a strangled sob. Sweet, gracious, wonderful Melly was gone. Scarlett had held the frail woman’s hand only half a day before and begged her not to leave her. Melly was the only friend- true friend- Scarlett has ever had. Probably even will have. There were many times during the years that Scarlett wished she could be rid of Melly and all her niceties. They were not in-laws anymore after all. Scarlett remembered getting annoyed with Melly regularly, but then she would do something so fiercely loyal and Scarlett was ashamed of herself for thinking she could ever live without the friendship of that woman.

Now Scarlett would never hold any part of her friend again. How could Melanie be gone forever? How could Scarlett live knowing that she had never fully expressed the extent of her love to that docile doe of a woman? Scarlett loved her more than any person in the world and yet she had been so.... vile. Truly, she would be punished in the next life for what she put Melly through. Wryly, Scarlett though, she was already being punished in this life. God had wasted no time in seeking revenge for Melanie Wilkes. Melly should be beatified immediately after all the nonsense Scarlett has put her through over the years. Scarlett’s stomach flipped and she instantly felt as though she was going to be sick.

She sighed heavily and tears puddled silently in the corners of her eyes. Scarlett never felt more like a truly decent person that she did when she was with her closest friend. Scarlett briefly wondered if she’d ever feel decent again.

Swiping her sleeve across her tear-caked face, Scarlett stopped to press the heels of her palms against her closed eyes. She pushed gently into the sockets trying to alleviate the pressure that had been building there since Bonnie had died. She could never get rid of the ache. 

Scarlett was suddenly struck with the desire to scream. One loud, guttural scream. No pillow to cry in, no belt to grip in her teeth. A pure, animalistic scream.

So she did.

The quiet house immediately sprang to life. Scarlett heard a set of uneasy feet thundering slowly up the central staircase. “Miss Scarlett!” Mammy cried out. “Are you alright, Miss Scarlett!”

Mammy’s cry set in motion absolute chaos. Wade and Ella, half awake, cried out in confusion and fear. They began screaming for their mother who was, currently, indisposed. Prissy had followed Mammy up the stairs, taking them two at a time in order to reach the children and quiet them. The servants downstairs who had started their quiet morning routine began clamoring downstairs in bewilderment as Scarlett continued to scream long and loud and rasping.

Despite the pandemonium, the scream was the first time in a long time that Scarlett felt at peace. All her thoughts ceased at once and there was a shimmering moment of clarity in which Scarlett thought it felt so natural to lose her mind. 

Mammy threw open the bedroom door to find Scarlett prostrate on the bed with her wrinkled skirts hiked up to her thighs. Scarlett was sobbing through her screams, the heels of her hands still pressed into the sockets of her eyes. The sight was shocking. Mammy thought that Scarlett resembled a dying animal caught in its own trap. The stillness of her body betrayed by the guttural anguish spilling out of her mouth. “Miss Scarlett...”

Instantly Scarlett’s scream stopped. She snapped up in bed and turned her face towards Mammy. Mammy noticed that Scarlett was looking in her direction, but her gaze was beyond her. There was a beat in which neither woman said anything. Slowly, Mammy stepped into the room and shut the door gingerly behind her. Scarlett’s face was blank though the tears kept falling silently down her alabaster skin. Behind the closed door Scarlett could hear the faint sounds of Prissy attempting to tend to Wade and Ella’s crying from the neighboring rooms.

“I apologize, Mammy.” Scarlett said in a monotone voice. Mechanically, Scarlett glanced down at her rumpled clothing again and registered how horrific she looked. “What a dreadful racket.” She said still staring at her skirts trying to flatten them in vain. “Please see to the children.”

“Miss Scarlett,” Mammy whispered, taking a step forward and reaching out her hand to Scarlett. “Come here, child. Tell Mammy what’s wrong.”  
“Whatever do you mean, Mammy?” Scarlett asked. She attempted at a coquettish laugh which instead spilled out of her a mimicked a nervous sob. “I am perfectly fine, see?” 

Scarlett painstakingly attempted to assemble her face into something that resembled composure. She walked herself though straightening her shoulders and pursing her lips in order to keep from crying. She dug her left thumb into the palm of her right hand to distract her from her tears. When Scarlett was sure she looked a modicum of fine, she tilted her head up to look at Mammy and finally raised her eyes to meet Mammy’s for the first time.

Any composure slipped the moment Scarlett saw the concerned look on her Mammy’s face. “Mammy.” 

Mammy crossed the room faster that she had moved in years and in moments she had Scarlett in her arms and she was sobbing again. Scarlett had opened the deluge of emotion she had been burying for years. “Mammy.” She whispered between cries. “Mammy, they’re all gone. Everyone I love is gone. I don’t know how I’m going to be alright.”

“Let it out, Miss Scarlett.” Mammy soothed, stroking Scarlett’s gnarled black hair. “You never felt the loss of Mr. Gerald and Mrs. Ellen because you had to be strong for everyone at Tara. You never felt the loss of Bonnie or the baby because you had to be strong for Mister Rhett. Who is going to be strong for you, Miss Scarlett? You can’t be everyone’s power and not feel your own sorrow.”

“He’s gone, Mammy,” Scarlett cried. “Rhett is never coming back. He left me and said terrible things to me right when I needed him the most.”

Mammy had overheard the fight between Scarlett and Rhett the night before. She had hoped that it was just another of their marital spats, but somehow she knew that this time was different. Their relationship hadn’t been right in years. Instead of speaking, Mammy shushed Scarlett, rocking her gently in her arms and let her cry on her bosom.   
_____________

Two days later Scarlett sat at her dressing table clad in black polished cotton petticoat and caged crinoline. Her crepe bonnet, veil, and fur-trimmed cape were laid carefully on the bed. Melanie’s funeral was in a few hours and Scarlett was trying to hide the purple bags under her eyes. 

Scarlett hadn’t had a good night sleep in days. After Mammy had soothed her and allowed her to finally feel her pain, Scarlett began compartmentalizing her emotions. She hadn’t heard from Rhett since he had left, but she knew dwell too long on it. Thinking of Rhett would make her come undone and she couldn’t afford that luxury again. People depended on her to provide Melanie with a proper funeral and, damn it, she would make sure it was the most beautiful service anyone had ever been to. 

So instead of ruminating on Rhett or Bonnie or even Melanie, Scarlett took each task one at a time. She had met with the priest, she had acquired flowers, and she had gone to the Wilkes’ and brought Beau over to her home. Ashley was inconsolable and India couldn’t manage both Ashley and his son at the same time. Aunt Pittypat was virtually useless. She would not even come out of her room. Scarlett saw the boy being neglected, crying alone in the parlor and she felt sorrow for him. She took it upon herself to bring him to her home so his cousin and Ella could distract him. 

Beau appreciated the gesture and it was helpful for Scarlett to have another person in the house as well. She felt closer to Melanie with Beau in the house and his presence allowed her an additional distraction from her grief. Now she could care for all three children. It didn’t allow her any time to think of herself and that pleased her. She could think about the rest later.   
Mammy had kept a watchful eye on Scarlett since she had broken down. Mammy was concerned that by reverting back to processing her emotions the way she always had Scarlett was in danger of having a real emotional break. Neither Mammy nor Scarlett spoke of that morning again, but every time they passed each other in the hallway Mammy gave her a knowing look. 

Now, however, the morning of Melanie’s funeral there was nothing more to be done. There was no more planning. She was no longer needed. All morning Scarlett’s thoughts periodically slipped to Rhett. She wondered if he was going to show up today. He and Melly had a wonderful friendship. It would be a disservice to her memory if he did not show. Scarlett also missed him terribly and wished Rhett would attend for her own selfish benefit. How would she explain his absence? She wasn’t sure she could. Not this time. 

Scarlett sighed, glancing into the mirror again. She was so pale and the purple bruises under her emerald eyes only exacerbated her sallow pallor. Scarlett reached for some rouge on her dressing table before thinking better of it. She wouldn’t want people to think poorly of her for wearing make up to a funeral. She would be wearing her veil anyway. 

“Miss Scarlett,” Prissy’s voice broke through Scarlett’s musings. “Miss Scarlett, it’s time to go the coach is here and the children are downstairs.” 

Scarlett stole one last glance of herself in the mirror before nodding. “Thank you, Prissy,” She muttered allowing Prissy to finish dressing her in her bonnet and cape. Scarlett reached over to a decanter of brandy that she had relocated to her dressing table and poured herself a quick glass. She swallowed the amber liquid in one quick mouthful and sighed. She would need all the help she could get today. The only sympathy she would have was from a crystal bottle. 

The ride to the cemetery was a somber one. Wade kept his eyes in his lap, playing with his fingernails. He did not want to see his aunt be buried. He loved his aunt more than he loved his own mother. Seeing her casket lowered into the ground would solidify the fact that she was really never coming back. He had asked Scarlett twice if he could please stay home while she and Ella went to the service, but Scarlett wasn’t having any of it. She told him that he had to be present to pay his respects to his aunt who loved him so very much. His cousin also needed him. To not go would be an insult. He did not want to insult his cousin or his aunt’s memory, so he acquiesced. 

Ella was less aware of the severity of the situation. She knew she was upset, but she was distressed only because Wade and he mother were unhappy. When she had asked Wade is Aunt Melanie would be at the service he had to sit her down and explain to her that Aunt Melanie had gone away. She had died and would not be coming back. Ella was not sure if she understood, but she saw the exhaustion in her mother’s taught face and Wade’s sad eyes and accepted this as the new normal. She sat next to her mother in the coach and reached for her hand halfway through the drive she Ella had notice Scarlett’s shoulders slump forward slightly. Scarlett was touched by the gesture and received Ella’s hand graciously with a gentle squeeze. Though never one to be overly affectionate with her children, Scarlett needed that small act more than she realized. 

It was drizzling when the three of them reached the cemetery, which seemed very apropos. The world had lost an angel and it seemed only fitting that the skies mourn the loss of Melanie Wilkes as well. Wade offered his hand to his mother and the three of them walked somberly towards the grave. Two men were finishing burrowing the deep grave and it took Scarlett only a moment to recognize the strong shoulders of one. 

Scarlett joined the congregating group and watched as Rhett set down his shovel and wiped his hands together to loosen some of the dust. His shoes were caked in layer of mud and he was damp from being out in the rain. To her surprise, his eyes met Scarlett’s. There was no loss of anger there. She had hoped that after a few days he might soften to her and come home. The tight line of his mouth and searing look in his eye spoke otherwise. Despite his otherwise hostile demeanor, he came to stand next to Scarlett as the priest began speaking.   
They were both silent for a moment, both staring at the grave Rhett had helped dig. “What made you do it?” Scarlett asked quietly. 

“Melanie was the most decent person I had ever met. It felt like the right thing to do. It should have been done by those who cared for her.” His intonation was monotone. He was in no mood for conversation. He wanted to pay his respects and leave. If he could have avoided this he would have, but it wasn’t fair to punish Melanie Wilkes for all of Scarlett’s shortcomings. He believed himself to be better than that. He could stand a few moments in the rain with his wife in order to say goodbye. 

He patted Wade on the back and took one of Ella’s outstretched hands. It wasn’t their fault they had such a poor mother. He held no animosity towards them. If anything he felt regretful that they would be losing another father figure. He reminded himself that he must continue to write to them both otherwise they were lost. Scarlett was not the mothering type. 

They lapsed into silence both standing rigidly next to one another. Scarlett wished desperately that he would reach out and grab her hand and for a moment she was mortified that she felt jealously towards her daughter. Rhett had stuffed his free hand into the pocket of her trousers. He wanted to make it abundantly clear that he was not here for her. 

A tear sprung from Scarlett’s eye. Despite being surrounded by so many people, she felt terribly isolated. It was in this moment that the weight of Melly’s loss fully hit her. She knew she was going to feel lonely for the rest of her life. Rhett, though here, would not be back, Melly was gone, and she was not fully accepted into high society. This was it. A deep hollowness filled her heart and it felt as if all of her insides dropped into her stomach at once. Tears prickled behind her eyes and her nostrils began burning with the effort to keep from crying. 

She let out a ragged sigh and took a deep, controlled breath. She would not cry here. Not in front of Rhett and everyone in Atlanta. She would have her moment alone with a glass of brandy later. 

“You look like hell, Scarlett,” Rhett hissed under his breath. 

“Well, thank you for the kind words, Rhett. How else am I supposed to look?” She knew he was goading her. She would not allow him to get under her skin. Not today. 

“Presentable and not smelling of brandy. Did you really think it appropriate to have a drink before coming to a funeral.” The coldness in his voice was so steely that it even shocked himself. He did not intend to be so punishing- he just could not stop. 

Scarlett turned her head, another escaped tear tracing her cheek. He knew she was exhausted, he could see it in the bags under her eyes and the emptiness in her eyes. For a fleeting moment he found himself wanting to brush her tears away from her cheek, but the thought vanished before it even solidified in his mind. She was never this vulnerable, not without motive. She was here only to show her support for Ashley. Funerals were the best times to catch husbands. 

“Don’t be cruel, Rhett. Not today.” She whispered. “I don’t have it in me to fight with you right now. It is neither the time not the place. Yes, I had one drink, but don’t think I can’t smell a drink or two on you as well. We’re not so different you and I. Now, enough. If you want to continue to insult me you may do so another time.” 

Rhett was slightly taken aback by her reaction. There was no animosity in her tone- in fact, there was nothing at all. She spoke as if she were on automatic. No intonation, not spark, nothing. It was the nothingness that concerned Rhett the most. He could not remember a single time when Scarlett had not done something with passion. For the first time in his life he heard her sound broken. 

Good, Rhett thought wryly. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of schadenfreude at the emptiness in her tenor. Now she finally understood. 

Across the dug cavern, Ashley fell to his knees and wailed as the coffin was lowered slowly into the ground. India knelt beside him and tried to pull him to his feet, but he was too heavy. Everyone at the ceremony attempted to look away in order to allow him so privacy, but his cried became headier. “Melanie, no.” He groaned. 

Beau looked stricken standing hunched next to Aunt Pitty Pat and Uncle Henry. Aunt Pitty was so immersed in her own grief that no one comforted the boy as he watched his mother being slowly lowered into her final resting place. Another few moments passed and everyone kept their eyes averted. It was no ones place to tell a man how to grieve his wife. 

Scarlett started forward and Rhett stiffened, livid. Quickly, she walked directly to Beau and knelt beside him, turning his face to hers. “Beau, look at me.” Scarlett said quietly. The boy turned his pale face to hers, his eyes red-rimmed and his face blank and a little scared. “Beau, take my hand and come stand here with Wade, Ella and me, okay?” He nodded, his eyebrows shooting upwards as his face crumpled. 

Beau’s hand in hers, Scarlett walked back to where she had been standing with Rhett and her children. She took her place next to Rhett and turned Beau to face her. “Beau, I’m so sorry,” she did not have the chance to finish her sentence. Beau wrapped his arms around Scarlett’s waist and began to sob. She knelt and took him in her arms. Beau buried his face in the crook of her neck as his shoulders heaved. He had only wanted someone to comfort him, but Scarlett had taken a moment to check in with the boy. She held Beau to her as Ashley continued to sob and the first fistfuls of dirt were shoveled onto Melanie’s coffin. 

Scarlett rubbed her hand along Beau’s back trying to comfort him, but she herself was at a loss. Besides Ella’s sweet gesture in the coach and Mammy’s soothing days ago, no one had thought to comfort Scarlett. Though she was trying to soothe the boy, his embrace calmed her. The both of them needed human contact and in that one, terrible moment they were able to hold onto each other. 

Rhett looked away, disgusted. Ashley should have been consoling his son. Scarlett was only putting on airs in order to make herself an attractive option for Ashley once he was out of mourning. It sickened him watching her comfort the child as she would if she were his new mother. He inadvertently tightened his grip on Ella’s hand and she mewled, “Uncle Rhett, you’re hurting me.”

He glanced down at her frizzed, rust colored head. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts he had not remembered Ella. “I’m sorry, my dear.” He let her hand go. As soon as she was free she took a step towards her mother and Beau and wrapped her arms around Beau’s middle and whispered, “It’s okay, Beau.”

The action was so moving that Rhett was both touched and repulsed at the same time. This was Scarlett’s new life. This was everything she had always coveted: a nuclear family with Ashley. Here it was. Wade stood beside Scarlett, his hand on her shoulder, and Beau was pressed between Scarlett and Ella. 

Her marriage to him had always been a mistake. He knew she loved Ashley for years and yet tried to sway her. He was so in love with Scarlett and blinded by his own desire for her that he was willing to overlook all of her indiscretions in order to have her. He wasted years of his life and only brought himself misery. It didn’t matter how much he loved her- how much he still loved her- all of it was for nothing. Before him, crouched on the ground, holding another man’s child was an antebellum vision of the Madonna and child. Beau was the child Scarlett was always supposed to have: not Wade, not Ella, especially not Bonnie. 

Rhett looked away, training his eyes to the last few shovels of dirt covering Melanie. He did not belong here. He never belonged here. After the ceremony he promised himself he would never come back to Atlanta again. Scarlett was free to have Ashley and her new life. He was free, too. He tried to ignore the sharp pain ripping through his chest. 

Beau finally released Scarlett when the priest muttered his final amen. She stood silently and glanced up towards Rhett. She silently begged him to hold her. She wanted him to be proud of what she had just done. He had always mocked her parenting- she had finally done something right. In a moment of weakness, she reached her hand out to touch Rhett’s. The graze of her fingers along his sent his already rigid body on edge. “Don’t, Scarlett,” he hissed, his eyes black with anger she was not expecting. “Nothing has changed.”

He turned to face her, one final time and his breath caught in his throat. In spite of it all, he knew would miss her. “Scarlett.” He said curtly, one final time, bowing his head to her and took his leave.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Word traveled fast in Atlanta about Scarlett’s maternal gesture with Beau during Melanie’s funeral. Many thought her to be brave and uncharacteristically kind towards the Wilkes boy. Others believed it might be a clever ruse to ingratiate herself back into high society. What everyone could not deny, however, was how much Beau cared for Scarlett- actress or not. The way he leaned on her for support during the funeral and the days following spoke volumes about the relationship Melanie and Scarlett had.

During and after the war Melanie Wilkes proudly told everyone how Scarlett helped deliver Beau by herself when Atlanta was falling and everyone else had abandoned the city. Eventually, the account of that day solidified itself into the patchwork of confederate Atlanta lore so much so that people forgot that the event indeed took place. It should not have been a surprise that Beau related to Scarlett in a rather unique way. Scarlett had lived with the Wilkes until she remarried Frank Kennedy. She watched him grow up. Even if she was not an affectionate woman, she was there and that presence alone spoke volumes for a child, especially one that just lost his mother. The consolation of a familiar face, while his father was otherwise occupied, was natural.

Scarlett heard snippets of this same conversation around town for days after the funeral: leaving the dry good store, taking Wade and Ella for a walk, and sitting on her own porch. It was exhausting to live that moment of grief over and over again. The only solace was at least Atlanta was not talking about Rhett and how he took his leave after the ceremony. Had Scarlett not comforted Beau she was sure that she would have been the subject of a very different conversation.

It should have pleased Scarlett that Atlanta was impressed with her, but instead every time she heard someone mention Melanie’s funeral all she could remember were Rhett’s cold, black eyes just before he left. She was not positive, but for a fleeting moment before he jerked his head downward in a stiff bow Rhett almost looked as if he regretted leaving. When his eyes finally met hers, however, he was cold again. His whole demeanor was ice and she recalled being momentarily frozen by him.

Irrationally, Scarlett hoped Rhett might come home the week following the funeral. The transitory look she thought she saw in his eyes gave her fools hope. Maybe she really did see something in his stare, but after a week went by she knew he was not coming.

Scarlett was angry and not just with him. She was cross that she allowed herself the ability to hope. He had been clear when he left- he was not coming back be she had done everything right this time. She had given Rhett time and space like she always had when he was distressed. She chose to comfort Beau over Ashley. She was trying to be a better person. All of Scarlett’s actions were trying to show Rhett that she was doing all of this for him- for them. Scarlett knew he hadn’t seen any of her actions like she had intended him to though. For days she waited and hoped and upset herself but there was no word of him. She wasn’t even sure he was in Atlanta anymore. If she knew anything about anything Rhett would have gone to Charleston.

Scarlett would not follow him to Charleston, she told herself. If he wanted to be alone, she would allow him that courtesy- for now. In the meantime, she had to otherwise occupy her time. Atlanta was doing nothing for her mental health. Callers were few and far between, she no longer had the mill to occupy her mind, and everything reminded her of her failures as a friend, wife, and mother. There were so many ghosts in her home that it felt more like a graveyard than a home. Even the children were abnormally quiet. All three of them were feeling the weighty loss of everything that had happened that year. They all needed a reprieve.

Scarlett sent a brief letter to Suellen and Will alerting them that she and the children would be arriving in a few days for a visit. Getting away to Tara would be good for her. A change of scenery would offer a fresh perspective and if Rhett did come after her she would not give him the satisfaction of being home waiting for him.

* * *

Scarlett smiled for the first time in weeks seeing Will Benteen propped against his horse-drawn wagon waiting for Scarlett and her children at the Jonesboro depot. He unfolded his arms that were crossed over his chest when he caught glimpse of the trio and a twitch of a smile flitted across his lips.

“Well if it isn’t Will Benteen, my favorite brother in law” Scarlett exclaimed, quickening her pace to her brother in law. “Thank you so much for retrieving us today. We couldn’t be happier to come for a visit and see you and Suellen.” The last sentence dripped off her tongue like snake venom dipped in honey. Will and Scarlett knew that the sisters never cared for one another. Suellen never forgave Scarlett for marrying Frank Kennedy and Scarlett still held his wife responsible for Gerald’s death and her manipulation in trying to force him into signing the Iron Clad oath. The feud didn’t much bother Will either way. He cared for his wife and he respected Scarlett for what she did for Tara during the war. The women could settle their own score- it was never his fight.

“That’s a loaded compliment, Scarlett. I’m your only brother in law.” Will drawled, steadying himself on his leg and giving Scarlett a peck on the cheek in warm greeting. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a while. So sorry to hear about Mrs. Wilkes; she was a real kind lady,” Will continued. “She’ll be in God’s hands now.”

Scarlett nodded solemnly but did not reply. Scarlett and the children settled themselves in Will’s wagon while Prissy arranged their trunks. “How are the girls, Will?” Scarlett inquired.

“They’re right terrors and growing like weeds.” Will grunted, “But they love Tara just as much as I do. Susie’s new pastime is running through the fields and getting right dirty. She won’t listen to no one about how unladylike it is. It don’t bother me none but Suellen is almost always cross with her.”

“Good for Susie. She’s just a girl- let her enjoy Tara.”

Will nodded, grunting in support. A comfortable silence fell over them. The gentle rocking of the coach lulled Scarlett into a contented trance. She was so acquainted with the ride from Jonesboro that she allowed her mind to silence for a few precious moments. Scarlett wasn’t worried about insulting Will by not engaging him conversation- he was never much of a talker. The silence suited them both just fine.

The rocking motion had the same effect on Ella as it did her mother. Ella’s head drooped slowly onto her own chest bouncing with each jostle. Her frazzled red hair enveloped her face. In a rare moment of motherly instinct, Scarlett pulled Ella into her side and allowed her to drift off.

Unfortunately yet predictably, Suellen’s welcome was nowhere near as warm as Wills. Scarlett could nearly feel the disdain emanating from her sister the moment the coach pulled up to Tara. Suellen stood on the front porch, a baby on her hip and her own hand on the other. Suellen had been none too pleased when Scarlett had written to tell her that she was coming to Tara to stay for a while. Who was Scarlett to tell Suellen what to do with her household? She was the lady at Tara. It was only after Will calmed Suellen did she acquiesce.

“Scarlett,” Suellen said curtly.

“Hi Suellen,” Scarlett responded trying her best to be agreeable. “Thank you for allowing me to stay awhile. I’ve missed Tara and the family so.” Only half of that statement was a lie. She had missed Tara and even Will. She could do without Suellen.

“Come- supper will be ready. Prissy can take your things to your room and bring Wade and Ella’s trunks to the nursery.” Suellen turned on her heel without another word and walked back into the house to prepare for the meal.

Scarlett followed and situated herself in the sitting room for a brief reprieve before supper. Ella ran in after Suellen in hopes to find Susie so they can play and within moments she heard the shrieks of the little girls. Wade shadowed Will like a puppy. He always had a soft spot for Will. He was always exceptionally kind to Wade whenever they were in town. Wade was like the son he never had.

Scarlett slouched into the settee and sighed. Tara. She was finally home at Tara. She could help Will in the field or go visit the Fontaine’s over at Mimosa. It had been years since she’d seen Alex or Sally. It would be nice to see some kind, familiar faces. Tomorrow she would send her calling card, she decided.

She sat idly, twirling her engagement ring around her finger absentmindedly. Scarlett hoped there would be even a modicum of happiness here at Tara for a while. Any distraction to keep her occupied and not thinking of her husband would be welcome. Maybe she would even take up writing letters to her family again. While she was weighing the pros and cons of writing to Aunt Eulalie and Aunt Pauline, one of Suellen’s staff members came to retrieve Scarlett for dinner.

Supper was no spectacular affair like it once was here at Tara, but there was enough boiled chicken, corn pone, and vegetables for everyone. Scarlett’s mouth watered- she hadn’t realized how hungry she had been. To be truthful she wasn’t quite sure of the last time she had a proper meal. Some nights Scarlett and the children would have dinner together in the dining room; other nights Scarlett couldn’t find the will to get herself out of bed. Often Scarlett went hungry or picked distractedly at what was on her tray. Once or twice Mammy brought a tray up to Scarlett and had forced her to eat the entirety of her meal after the children had gone to sleep.

Scarlett started forward, reaching to serve herself a piece of boiled chicken when Suellen asked, “Where’s Rhett, Scarlett? I was surprised he wasn’t with you after Melanie’s funeral.”

Scarlett willed herself to finish plating her chicken. She could not quite decipher if there was malice in Suellen’s tone. She did not think she heard any, but Suellen always had a way of finding Scarlett’s sore spots.

“He had to go to London for business.” Scarlett lied. “Terrible timing. He had to leave after Melanie’s funeral. It’s been very difficult without him”

“What kind of business would take a man away from his wife in such a trying time?” Suellen clucked, shaking her head slightly. “It’s a shame. He should be here with you.”

A silent rage began to burn in Scarlett’s chest. Damn, Suellen. Of course, she had no way to know that Rhett had left her, but damn her for insinuating there was trouble in their marriage. She was hoping to come here and have peace. It had been years since Frank and Pa. She should be good and over it by now what with a husband and two children. It was just like Suellen to make any interaction more difficult than it needed to be.

“I’m sure he’s a very busy man and busy men have demanding schedules.” Will drawled, taking a bite of corn pone. Imperceptibly, he glanced sideways at Suellen and the conversation was over.

“How are the Wilkes?” Suellen asked more subdued this time. There was a hint of shame and sadness in her voice. For what purpose, Scarlett couldn’t be sure.

“They’re distraught as you could imagine. Little Beau is having the hardest time I think.” At the opposite end of the table, Ella, Wade, and Suellen’s children were engaged in quiet conversation. She made sure none of the children were listening before she continued, “He’s old enough to know that his mother is never coming home but too young to understand what that really means.”

Suellen set her silverware down and absentmindedly place a hand on her stomach. “The poor boy. She was an angel, that Melanie. How she ever managed the likes of you still baffles me.”

Scarlett was sure Suellen meant to insult her a second time, but to her own surprise instead, she chuckled, “I’m quite perplexed myself, honestly. She was one of the few truly decent people I’ve ever met. I’m no devil, but I surely did not deserve her devotion.”

“I’m not sure, Scarlett. You’ve always been rather devilish to me.” Scarlett glanced up and met Suellen’s eyes. One corner of her mouth was turned down in a half-hidden smirk and there was a knowing glint behind her eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment before Scarlett began to laugh and broke the awkwardness at the table.

Later that evening Suellen and Scarlett sat by a small fire in the sitting room sharing a cup of tea. Wade had gone off with Will and the girls were playing upstairs. Despite the warm fire in the hearth and the polite dinner they shared, there was still a chill between the sisters.

Suellen had confessed to Scarlett that she was pregnant. This would be her third child with Will. She was hoping for a boy this time so that Will wouldn’t feel like he was running a hen house. “I’m not so sure he has feelings on it one way or another. He loves the girls, but I think he secretly wants someone to teach. Susie loves Tara now, but I’m sure when she gets older she’ll tire of the dirt. And she won’t be able to run it. She’s a woman.”

“Well, why can’t she?” Scarlett asked, taken aback. “I did during the war. I saved this plantation. I could have kept running it if I decided to stay.”

Suellen snorted and rolled her eyes taking a sip of tea. “Of course you’d think so, Scarlett. You could never see it any other way than yours. Your vanity would never allow you to see how much the rest of us did for Tara. Careen and I were sick with typhoid and we were out in the fields picking cotton.

“There was no choice in whether you ran Tara or didn’t. We either starved or we survived and your stubbornness allowed us to survive, thank heavens, but your sense of self-preservation and selfishness outweighed any compassion you might have shown any of us.”

“Compassion?” Scarlett retorted quietly, “Wasn’t it compassion enough that I kept everyone fed and Tara out of the hands of the Yankees?”

“Was it compassion or was it desperation?” Suellen asked. She sighed and took another sip of her tea. “I won’t lie and say we all didn’t depend on you, but, Lord, Scarlett you were so cruel. Careen nearly died in those fields half dead with typhoid and you still whipped her like a tired mule. You married my Frank for his money and his business and got him killed in the process. You knew how much I cared for him.” Suellen paused, “Of course, I have come to care so much for Will, I hope you know that. He’s the father of my children and he saved me from being ostracized by the community. He’s a good man, a really good man. He keeps his promises and he’s kind. But it’s the idea of what could have been.”

Scarlett stared down into her cup. After everything she had ever done for her family she was still seen as a monster. Suellen was no saint either, though. She was as slithery as a snake when she needed to be. She was just better at concealing it. “There are things you did that I can never forgive you for,” Suellen continued, “and I have tried.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Scarlett responded. There was a pause. Normally Scarlett would have bit back at Suellen in a rage for questioning her intentions, but there was so little fight left in Scarlett. She was too tired for this same fight. She did what needed to be done. “I knew this farm needed to be kept afloat. There was no way the payments would have been made with the crop we were yielding. I did take Frank from you and lied that you were engaged to another man; it’s true. I regret how it unfolded but I don’t regret doing it. Without his business, there would be no Tara left. He was no businessman he barely pulled in a thousand dollars when he first opened the store. If it weren’t for me the store never would have been as successful. I know you believe me heartless, but I did it to save Tara. I sent profits back here to make sure you and Will were well taken care of.”

“Yes, but I could have done it for Tara, Scarlett,” Suellen said quietly. “Don’t you realize the indignity of accepting my former beaus’ money? It made us all feel cheap.”

“I don’t remember hearing you complain about receiving money every month when it came.” Scarlett ruffled. She was exhausted of his fight, but her temper was starting to flare.

Suellen, ran the fingertips of her left hand across her forehead quickly, “You know that’s not fair, Scarlett. We did not have any other choice.”

Scarlett began trembling slightly trying desperately to keep her composure. She scoffed, “And you could have done what, exactly? Suellen, you’re no shrewd businesswoman. What help could you have been to Frank and the business? You closest you came to being astute was trying to manipulate Pa into signing the Iron Clad.”

“It was multiple thousands of dollars, Scarlett.” Suellen’s voice rose slightly and finally set down her drink. “We could have been compensated for everything the Yankees did to Tara. That money could have kept Tara in our hands for a few years at least. There was no better option at the time.”

They were both silent for a long moment, staring at each other. Neither Suellen nor Scarlett ever understood each other. In their own way, they both attempted to protect their families, but there was never any cohesion between the two of them. There was always either too much jealousy or too much rage. Never once could they see eye to eye. Even now, despite their conversation being the most rational it had ever been, they could not see past their own selfishness and pain. A beat passed before Scarlett responded, “It wouldn’t have been worth it to Pa. It wouldn’t have been worth it to anyone else. We would have been Union sympathizers. Could you have lived with that after everything they did?”

“I don’t know, Scarlett. Can you live with everything you’ve done?” Suellen locked eyes with Scarlett and they were as cold as steel.

The two sisters glared at one another and when Scarlett did not respond, Suellen narrowed her hazel eyes. Suellen’s words made Scarlett pause and she was forced to look away. Could she live with everything she had done? Ever decision Scarlett had ever made she did so she would survive, but perhaps after she had endured and made a comfortable life for herself she began overcompensating. She had made so many choices in her life- many were necessary, many were cruel- and yet here she was, running away to her childhood home with no friends, no husband, no family, and weighed down by immeasurable loss.

Could she live with what she had put Rhett through? Throughout all these years she thought him a permanent fixture in her life. He had watched her make decision after decision and encouraged her when she was unsure. She was so fixated on survival for so long that she hadn’t been sure how to let go of that post-traumatic stress that came after the war. She clung to anything that reminded her of the safety of pre-war Atlanta. Maybe Suellen had been right- maybe she has been wrong for a while. Perhaps none of her decisions were based around financial stability but rather her own trauma. She always thought money meant stability, but Scarlett was the richest she had ever been but she was also the most alone.

“I used to think I could,” Scarlett responded meeting her sister's eyes again, “but I’m not so sure anymore.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

It had been six weeks since Rhett had left Scarlett. He had expected that as the weeks bled slowly into one another he would find himself thinking of her less. Instead, he fantasized about her every night. In his dreams, she reciprocated his love. Sometimes they were on their honeymoon in New Orleans but more often they were in the library at Twelve Oaks the first day he saw her. He would take her impatiently on the settee and she would beg for him. She would whisper his name in ecstasy and when he was on the precipice of release he would wake sweating, painfully aroused, and furious.

It was the same variation of the dream every night yet it felt more real than his reality. He had been numbing his days with drink in order to haze the memory of her, but even in his drunkest state, he swore he could feel her skin beneath his fingers and her mouth on his. It had been so long since they had come together as man and wife- the last time was when he was also drunk. There was very little he remembered about that last time. He remembered sheer rage. She had refused her bed to him for months and that night he had confronted her on deliberately withholding herself from him because of her love for Ashley. She mocked him to his face. He wanted to wring her neck and he told her as much.

He wanted to physically crush her and all thoughts of Ashley from her mind. He didn’t care if he hurt her that night. She had toyed and wounded him for years. It was humiliating adoring a woman who was constantly making herself a fool by throwing herself at another married man. That night in their dark dining room he was intent on punishing her. He wanted to fuck her senseless until she forgot Ashley’s name entirely and cried out only for him. He wanted to remind Scarlett who really owned her.

For as long as Rhett had known Scarlett, Ashley had a hold on her mentally and emotionally, but he was encroaching upon his wife and their marriage. Rhett had hoped that as Scarlett got older she would come to see her feelings for Ashley for what they truly were- a childish infatuation. Instead, she clung to the mild-mannered gentleman harder. That night Rhett wanted to show Scarlett that he was her husband and though she loved Ashley mentally and emotionally, he and he alone could take her body and soul, even if it meant against her will.

The thought of that night made the corners of Rhett’s lips curl upwards in a snarl. He took a sip of whiskey and placed it back down on the table, running his fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

She had fought him the final time. He knew she was frightened of him, but he could not stop himself. She beat on his chest and tried to shove him away. Rhett had encircled her wrists and pinned them to the bed to keep her from moving. He threw one of his thighs over hers and pressed down. He knew she was powerless and it aroused him even more. Scarlett was always a prideful woman. She made all of her suitors believe that they held the upper hand in their relationship. He knew it would be humbling for her to have to submit to him and he relished in it.

She had wriggled beneath him, trying to break free of his grasp but he sought her lips forcefully. Scarlett resisted but his prying tongue coaxed her tight lips open and she responded tightly. He kept demanding her attention, deepening the kiss until she reciprocated in kind. He tightened his grip on her wrists, tearing his lips from hers. He brushed her neck, tracing kisses up its length until he settled at the juncture of her jaw. He stopped suddenly tasting the brackishness of her hot, silent tears. It wasn’t until that moment that he felt a modicum of shame.

Scarlett had nearly been defiled on a number of occasions and here he was, someone who claimed to love her forcing her to submit to him. How was he better than the Yankee soldier or the man on the road to the mill? His rage ebbed slightly and his stomach dropped. He was still furious that she could never love him the way she loved Ashley. He would have her, but he would not hurt her.

He moved his thigh off of her and loosened his grip on her wrists. He pulled away from her and glanced down. Scarlett’s emerald eyes caught his and held them for a long moment. Taking a deep breath, she pursed her lips protruded her jaw maintaining his eye contact. Rhett had the urge to laugh in spite of himself. She was defiant to the end- wasn’t that what he loved about her? He took a jagged breath and slowly lowered his lips to hers. This time she opened for him immediately.

He released one of her wrists and brought his hand down to cup her face. She wrapped her free arm around his waist and her breathing hitched slightly. He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth hungrily with his own. She responded in kind, increasing the rapidity of the kiss. He straddled her, releasing her completely. His hands sought the tie of her robe and hungrily threw it open to expose her sheer nightdress. Her nipples were erect and straining at the fabric of her nightgown. He grunted, his hand moving to seek her breast. He rolled one of her nipples between his fingers, tugging gently. She gasped and arched her back upwards in an attempt to meet his body.

“Look at me,” he hissed, moving from one nipple to the other. She turned her face towards him and there was a devilish glint in her eye. She gasped in response to his hands and the corner of her lip curled in an almost imperceptible smirk.

Rhett knew he was being had. He had wanted to control her to show her that real men weren’t meek and mild intellectuals and yet she had turned the tables on him. She knew he was incensed and aroused and wanted her and she had found his weakness when she had begun to cry. She knew that if she acquiesced he would relinquish her and yet she was luring him on even after he released her. Damn her, he thought, damn her for playing him like a fool. He ended up taking her hard and heatedly that night relishing in the way she moaned and fantasizing that she was thinking of him and not Ashley.

Rhett finished the last of his drink and shook his head in an effort to be rid of the sour memory. He found himself often in that memory. Their last acrimonious union was so full of animosity; both of them took their frustrations of unrequited love out on each other. He ran his hand over his face and sighed. He waived a woman over to him and said, “Do a gentleman a favor, dear, and pour me another.”

She nodded returning shortly with a decanter of whiskey. “Three fingers, dear. It’s been a rather long day.” One of his companions patted him on the back and guffawed extending his own empty glass out to the barmaid in anticipation.

During the last six weeks, Rhett had made himself a regular at an upscale brothel in downtown Charleston. He would often play cards with other patrons and drink more than publicly civil, but Rhett could hold his liquor. He was no stranger to glass or three of whiskey. Occasionally he would visit Clementine, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty that was discreet and filled his needs.

Tonight Rhett sat with four men smoking cigars and playing card games. They had been gambling for a few hours and were all various shades of inebriated. Rhett had been up five hundred dollars for the past hour and some of his gambling partners were offering to buy him more drink to loosen him up. Rhett laughed harshly, “Come now, gentleman. We’ve been playing for weeks. I made my living as a gambler during the war. You think another glass will give you my tells?”

The men laughed and settled back into their game. The man sitting to Rhett’s left, Herman, picked up his glass and took a long swig, “God these women drive me crazy.” His eyes tracked a busty redhead with breasts billowing over her too-tight bodice. “It’s a shame my wife won’t use her mouth like that beauty.”

“Instead she just uses it to hassle you, eh?” The Irishman across from Rhett at the table laughed, his thick Irish brogue even thicker with drink. “For the best, no? Wouldn’t fit to be married to one of these broads, but damn it’d be nice to have a good romp once and a while that I didn’t have to charm out of her.”

“Charm?” Rhett smirked and tilted his head slightly. He took a puff of the cigar hanging precariously out of his mouth. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same man, Patrick? You’ve got about the charm of a fresh coat of paint.”

“Ah you old bastard,” Patrick snorted, “You’ve a wife, eh? You should be knowing.”

Rhett nodded taking the first sip of his freshly poured drink, “Yes, regrettably, I am married and do know your plight exactly.”

“Where’s she now- Charleston? She know you’re down here with the dirty likes of us regularly?” Herman asked, laying a card down on the table.

Rhett smirked at the card and threw his hand on the card table. The rest of the men groaned as Rhett collected their wagers and folded the bills into his pocket. “I told you an extra drink wouldn’t help you lot,” He drawled, laughing. “No, I believe she’s in Georgia- either Atlanta or the country outside of Jonesboro. We’re not exactly engaged in a loving marriage. Our marriage is essentially finished.”

The men nodded. “A real bitch, ain’t it?” Another one of the men responded sympathetically. “If I could do it all over again I’d choose a different broad myself.”

“How long has it been this way?” Herman asked, shuffling another hand. “My cousin knows a great lawyer in Augusta if you’ve got any legal recourse. It’s damn near impossible, but if you can prove that legally, there’s cruel treatment, habitual intoxication, or desertion within the marriage then you can bring it to a jury.”

Rhett ran his rough hand through his black hair for a second time, tilting himself back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ve been separated for about six weeks, but the marriage hasn’t been suitable in a number of years.”

Herman nodded, “I’ll call tomorrow morning with his contact. Now, damn it, if I don’t win this round my wife will divorce me for my own stupidity.”

Hours later, Rhett stumbled home to his mother’s where he had been staying for the last few weeks. He knew she was less than enthusiastic about his recent behavior, but she had not chastised him as much as he was rebuking himself. He knew his frequent visits to the brother were toxic, but drink dulled the pain of thinking of his failed marriage. If he were honest with himself, he had been thinking of divorcing Scarlett since before Melanie’s funeral. Now he was positive it was the right decision. Finally, he could be free of her and those hauntingly beautiful emerald eyes. Perhaps if he could attain a divorce his dreams would finally stop.

He sat slumped in the lounge in his mother’s home nodding off until the sun began painting the sky a deep red. He sat crumpled there for hours too drunk and too unwilling to move. It wasn’t until he heard his mother enter the sitting room and situate herself across from him that he finally looked up.

Eleanor Butler sighed and reached forward to take one of her son’s hands. It had been like this since he had shown up at her door unannounced five weeks ago. Nearly every night he would go out and return inebriated and in pitiable humor. Tonight was no different. He reeked of booze, smoke, and sex and his eyes were bloodshot. His eyelids drooped and he could barely focus on her face, even when she turned his face to meet her own. “Rhett, my darling, have you slept?”

She knew the answer before he responded, “No, mother.”

Eleanor reached towards her son, cupping his chin in her hands. He had not shaved in three days. “What are you doing to yourself, Rhett? This isn’t like you to be this melancholic.”

He laughed harshly and pulled his face out of her hand. He slumped forward so that his elbows were resting on his thighs. He buried his head in his hands and groaned. “My marriage is over, mother. Surely you know this by now.” He rubbed his hands down the length of his face before they paused beneath his chin, his hands clasped as if in prayer, his chin resting unsteadily between his pointer and middle fingers.

“Yes, I suspected there was trouble in your marriage, but I do not understand why the two of you cannot attempt to put the effort into the union.”

“She loves another man.” His voice cracked and he opened his eyes to face his mother. “Our marriage was a mistake and self-destructed long before I left. There is no way to salvage it.”

“She loves another man? Did she tell you this before you married?”

Rhett swallowed hard and narrowed his eyes, “Yes.”

“And you married her despite the fact that she declared her devotion to a man other than yourself?”

“Yes.”

“I took you for many things, my son, but I never took you as a fool,” Eleanor said harshly, folding her hands in her lap. He had been killing himself with drink for nearly two months. Enough was enough- he needed to hear some sense. “You married Scarlett despite the fact that she was honest and told you that she loved another man and now, years later, you are upset that she’s in love with that same man?”

Rhett scoffed, “I thought that I might change her mind. We had known each other for many years before we married and we always had a very good relationship. I hoped that she might come to love me.”

“So you knew her for many years, always knew that she was in love with this other man, and are cross that she remained honest with you about it all these years later?”

“No, mother.” His lips her set in a tight line and he began clenching and flexing one of his fists. “I’m angry at myself for making her one of my mistakes in the first place and allowing her to manipulate me. The day I decided to leave her she confessed how much she had loved me for years. A ruse to get me to stay, I’m sure.”

Eleanor blinked and took a breath. She opened her mouth as if to say something but thought better of it. She closed her lips, pursing them slightly. A moment passed before she said, “You know how much I love you, my son.” She nodded at him cajolingly trying to speak as kindly to him as she could muster despite her annoyance. “It sounds as if Scarlett is not the one that was doing the manipulating in this scenario. She was truthful with you from the beginning that she loved another man and you attempted to persuade her otherwise. Maybe she was attempting to get you to stay when she told you she loved you, but maybe she wasn’t. Know that you are no saint.”

She looked him up and down before continuing; “I watched the two of you during Bonnie’s funeral. She tried desperately to hold onto you and you shrugged her off. You were positively cruel.”

“She blamed me for my daughter’s death!” Rhett’s voice rose, his eyes wild with anger.

“She was grieving.” Eleanor retorted, exasperated. “You were both grieving but neither of you was grieving together. You needed each other but were both too prideful to admit it.”

“What are you on about, mother?” Rhett spat. “I don’t appreciate you goading me in such a way. You don’t know Scarlett and you don’t understand the dynamic of our marriage. She’s selfish, toxic, cruel, and, admittedly, my favorite mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. We are not compatible as husband and wife. I wanted her because I could not have her. Once I had her we did nothing but set fire to our own lives. I cannot pretend that I have anything left in me to keep trying with a woman like her. Our marriage is over and I will discuss this with you no further.”

Rhett stood and stalked heatedly from the room without another word. Eleanor sighed; he was not ready to see his own culpability. She knew Scarlett was a difficult woman, but she knew that her son was a trying man himself. The two of them were too similarly headstrong to admit to their own mistakes and didn’t know a thing about communication. Eleanor hoped that someday he would see his oversight, but when a gentleman called later that afternoon with the name of a lawyer in Georgia she knew that he was intent on his decision.


	5. Chapter 5

Scarlett never intended to spend more than two weeks at Tara. She only wished for a couple of quiet mornings to herself and a temporary reprieve from her chaotic life. Weeks turned to months, however, and Scarlett found herself still licking her wounds on the plantation three months later. Scarlett spent many mornings settled in a rocking chair on Tara's front steps watching the sunrise with a steaming cup of coffee. Those daily contemplative hours watching the sunrise kiss Tara's earthen landscape made Scarlett feel momentarily at peace. She did not sleep peacefully any longer and there was something indescribable about the way the world held its breath for those few noiseless moments before the new day. It offered so much promise. She had lived to see this new day and each day would be what she made it.

She fell into a routine and days quickly passed. Scarlett would take her coffee on the front porch before she dressed for the day. She insisted on going into the field with her son and Will; the three of them, along with the help, performed various tasks that needed to be done until she came inside around noon to help Suellen with the girls and household duties. Scarlett saw how speedily Wade adapted to country living and couldn't help but be proud of him. He looked so serene performing Tara's daily tasks with Will. She often caught him smiling to himself in the fields and it made her heart swell with pride. He looked so like his grandfather then.

Scarlett missed her father terribly. She felt as if he was the only member of her family that she understood in any capacity. He valued her hard and opinionated Irish spirit despite her mother's protests. When she became fiery and intense, Gerald would laugh and applaud her for being just like her namesake. Gerald made her proud of being herself, but as she grew older Scarlett saw the love her mother Ellen inspired in others and sought to emulate her.

Ellen Robillard O'Hara was an enigma to Scarlett. She loved her mother dearly but never understood how she could always be so perfectly poised. Ellen did no wrong; everyone loved her. In her youth, Scarlett tried, unsuccessfully to emulate her mother in any way she could, but she was too fierce. It was exhausting trying to live up to the expectation set forth by her mother. Maybe that was one of many contributing factors as to why she rebelled later in her life against the concept of reputation. She knew she could never be the daughter Ellen wanted and yet she tried to force herself into the perfect southern belle mold laid before her.

Scarlett wondered if her mother would have been proud of her had she still been alive. Perhaps if she were still alive she would have had some additional guidance. Scarlett was so young when Ellen died of typhoid. Scarlett was just seventeen and already a widow and mother. She had no idea what she was doing. She could have used her mother's gentle hand.

She never understood her sisters either. Or at least never took the time to understand them. As children Careen was a sweet little thing, but Suellen was constantly trying to compete with Scarlett for attention. That childhood envy played inadvertently played into many decisions both Suellen and Scarlett made throughout their lives.

After their conversation on the night of her arrival, Scarlett and Suellen moved throughout Tara in a quiet indifference to each other. They understood each other insofar as they understood their underlying anger towards each other. There was still a simmering bitterness between them, but the sisters respected each other for admitting the extent of their faults. Suellen knew she shouldn't have tried to manipulate her father into sympathizing with the Yankees. Though she would not apologize for marrying him to save Tara, Scarlett admitted she could have been more tactful with Frank after many nights and over many drinks.

Scarlett began a regular correspondence with her family while she was at Tara. Her loneliness felt immeasurable against the vast landscape of Clayton County and she yearned to forge old connections to see if she could find some semblance of her old self. She started writing regular letters to her Aunts Eulalie and Pauline and her sister Careen. She penned out a short letter to Aunt Pitty asking after her and the family as a whole. She thought it was vague enough to not incite gossip thinking that she was inquiring after Ashley. In reality, she was more concerned with Beau, which Scarlett had expressed in so many words. She wrote a number of letters to Rhett describing her days and the peace she found in the country but never dared to send them. He had not called or sent her any letters himself. She didn't feel right encroaching upon his space despite missing him terribly.

Eulalie and Pauline responded often and with glee at hearing from Scarlett. Their letters were filled with banalities but were pleasant enough. Scarlett often raked them overlooking for any news of her husband, but there was never anything. Scarlett wondered if they knew that Rhett had left her and they were just being kind. Correspondence was slower with Careen- now Sister Mary Catherine. She welcomed Scarlett's letters but was busy at the convent in Charleston. She often spoke of her work helping the poor and Scarlett told her of Tara. Careen and Suellen didn't keep in contact very often. Holiday letters were the extent of their correspondence and even then they were short and succinct.

Aunt Pitty replied with a kind letter thanking Scarlett for inquiring after Beau and the family. He was still understandably despondent but India had taken it upon herself to raise and look after the boy temporarily. She did not mention Ashley and for that Scarlett was thankful. She wished him well, but she did not wish to be entwined to him in any unnecessary way. She promised Melly she would take care of Beau and that she would, but she did not want the burden of Ashley. Not anymore.

Scarlett enjoyed her letters more than she thought she would and eagerly replied. At first, she reached out to her family out of desperation but as letters came more and more frequently she found comfort in knowing that people cared for her in some capacity. The letters also allowed her to continue to lie to Suellen and Will about Rhett's whereabouts. On more than one occasion told them that one of her aunt's correspondences was from her husband who was still away on business but wished them his love.

A little over three months into her stay, however, Scarlett received an unexpected letter that made her heart stop. Pork had delivered the envelope to her while she was savoring her morning coffee. She recognized the lazy scrawl immediately and her heart leaped into her throat. She ran her fingertips over the loops of her name on the front of the envelope. She imagined Rhett sitting at his desk, hunched forward slightly. She envisioned the skin between his eyes creasing gently in concentration. She wanted to kiss that patch of skin and wrap her arms around him. Perhaps he was looking for her? Perhaps he even missed her. Scenarios ran through her mind like wild horses.

Scarlett gingerly opened the envelope, her hands trembling slightly with anxiety. She was both terrified and excited.

 _Scarlett_ ,

_I had visited the home in Atlanta and had been informed you had not been in residence for some time. I left some important paperwork for your consideration. See to it at your earliest convenience. It is of the utmost importance._

_Rhett Butler_

He was looking for her! Her heart turned over in her chest and began beating fast. He had been thinking of her and had come back. She should have penned a note alerting him of her whereabouts in case this situation arose. She had not thought about that before she hastily left for Tara. She was berating herself mentally as she hurriedly picked herself up and returned to her room. She had to get the children ready to go back to Atlanta. Who knows how long ago he had been to the home on Peachtree Street. If he came back and she was not there a second time she would never forgive herself for it.

They could finally have the conversation she was so desperate to have. There were so many things she wanted to apologize. She wanted to address the wrong both of them had done in their marriage and move forward. Scarlett's stomach tossed- she hoped he was receptive to her and her feelings. She hoped the time apart had calmed him as it had her. She had months to thinks of their marriage and the role each had played in their dissolution. She analyzed the entirety of their relationship- they were both very much at fault for their failed union.

She had an infantile infatuation with Ashley Wilkes who spurred her along despite being married to Melly. He often told her that he loved her but felt he must see the marriage through because it was the more socially acceptable match for him. She took his confessions as all-encompassing love when she should have seen it for what it was: weakness. Ashley was never really in love with her; he was physically attracted to her. He was stuck permanently in pre-war Georgia like she was for so many years. Once he came back from the war he was weak and incompetent- unable to acclimate to the new south. Over time her admiration for him dwindled and she saw him clearly as a man embellished and adorned by her imagination.

Whenever she got too close to her husband, however, he held her father away. The jealousy he had acquired over many years forced him to put up an impenetrable wall between the two of them. She knew many times before her final proclamation that she loved him, but whenever she felt she might have true feelings Rhett would push her away right back into her fantasy. He was cruel and made her feel small. He slept with other women and never confided in her completely. Whenever there were problems in their marriage he would take them to Belle Watling- never Scarlett. It hurt her to realize that she had never been his confidant in any meaningful way. She loved him, but she did not really know him.

They were both too strong-willed and buried their emotions so as to feel nothing, but their coping mechanisms backfired. They took a perverse joy in hurting each other and after a while, neither knew how to stop. He was like a drug to her- toxic and wonderful, but eventually, they could barely stand being along together. It wasn't until they put distance between them that she understood the depth of their wrongdoings.

Scarlett rushed to prepare her things. She could make the evening train to Atlanta if she made herself ready by noon. She called for Prissy and alerted her that they would be leaving that evening and to start getting the children's belongings together once they were dressed for the morning.

While she was waiting for the house to stir, she wrote correspondences to Eulalie, Pauline, and Careen to alert them that she was returning home to her home at Peachtree Street and to direct any messages to her address there. She hoped that if Rhett had indeed gone back to Charleston that word of her return would bring him home again.

At breakfast that morning Scarlett thanked Will and Suellen for their hospitality, but Rhett was returning home from his trip earlier than expected and she felt that she should be home to welcome him. Her sister and her husband nodded in agreement with her and when she was not looking shared a relieved look. Scarlett had been wonderful assistance over the course of the last few months, but they were happy to have their home back in order. It was exhausting having guests any time, but ones that stayed for a quarter of the year when Suellen was pregnant had become exhausting.

The children finished their meal in silence. Wade looked ashen pushing around unfinished eggs on his plate. He was not ready to take his leave of Tara yet. He was just beginning to feel confident in his abilities as a farmer and he was not ready to give that up to go back to the city. Ella, too, was despondent. She enjoyed the company of her cousins. She was often lonely at the Peachtree Street home since Bonnie had died. Wade kept her occupied on occasion, but he was becoming a man, and children's games no longer held much enjoyment for him. She forced a smile at her mother and ducked her head.

Scarlett did not notice her children's reluctance. She turned to Wade; "We will leave when you have finished the morning's work with Will and change clothes." He could not ignore that his mother spoke with inflection for the first time in many months.

He nodded, "Of course, mother."

* * *

Scarlett spent the rest of the morning wandering the plantation. She wanted to be alone to gather her frenetic thoughts after the morning's excitement. She could not get ahold of her emotions: she was anxious, excited, angry… she was everything all at once. Taking long, deep breaths trying to steady her moods she tried to appreciate her final morning at Tara. She was unsure of when she might be able to make the trip back and she knew she would miss the serenity of this place terribly.

She would miss her routine and the vast expanse of bright blue sky that met her every morning. She would miss the dirt under her fingernails after visiting the fields. She would even miss the nightly companionship of her sister, which she had come to begrudgingly enjoy.

Scarlett rounded on Tara's boundary fence and paused. She leaned on the wooden poles momentarily watching Will and Wade work. The two were chatting between tasks and it warmed Scarlett's heart seeing her son so absorbed. A whistle blew off in the distance signifying the afternoon break. Wade glanced towards the main house. She watched from afar as he brushed his hands against his work pants and approached Will with purpose. Will and Wade spoke briefly before the young boy offered his hand for a shake. Will took it graciously and pulled Wade in for a hug. The two of them made their way towards the house, Will's hand resting on her son's shoulder.

Scarlett smiled softly and followed after them. Wade would be changing from his work clothes now in order to prepare for their trip. They would be leaving for Atlanta in about an hour and she had to see to some final arrangements.

Scarlett walked one final loop outside the house taking in her last few moments. She felt an overwhelming intuition that she should abandon her trip back home to Atlanta and stay at Tara a few days longer. She was not sure if she was emotionally prepared to go back to Peachtree Street. Everything was still too raw. She was anxious about whether she would be received back into society and if there were any rumors about her sudden departure.

Scarlett took a few focused breaths trying to steady her increasing heart rate. She would be fine, she told herself. Peachtree Street was her home and Rhett had been looking for her. She could not stay at Tara forever. Scarlett approached the porch and wrapped her arms around her waist. She stared at the vast expanse of land and repeated in a cyclical mantra that everything would be fine. She could handle Atlanta- it was her home. She was going home to her husband who was looking for her.

"Scarlett, may I have a word?" She jumped. Will's voice broke through her refrain and she turned to face him. He had been watching her calmly from the front door.

"Will! Oh, you scared me. Of course, you may. I was taking a moment to say farewell to Tara for a while. I do want to thank you and Suellen for all your hospitality. It was quite cathartic to be here."

He nodded, "No thanks needed. You are family and always welcome." He took a few steps forward and motioned to one of the porch chairs. "I could use a sit, join me?"

She obliged taking a seat next to her brother in law. "What can I help you with, Will?"

He ran his hand across his hairline before halting at his temple to scratch an itch. "Scarlett, Wade's taken a real liking to agriculture and overseeing. He's mighty good and as dedicated a worker I've ever had. I love the boy and I told him I'd speak to you. He wants to stay here at Tara to learn how to run a plantation properly. I know he's been in school, but school won't teach you anything worth knowing when it comes to this." He gestured towards the fields. "He was afraid to come to you in case you'd be cross with him and say no."

Scarlett swallowed hard. She should have seen this coming. Her son and brother-in-law had bonded over the past few months and she saw the joy in Wade's face every day. Will took Wade under his tutelage and worked patiently with the boy. It had been evident to Scarlett that her son felt more at home here at Tara than he ever did in Atlanta. Here he had the undivided attention of someone who appreciated the land just as much as he did. He absolutely thrived here, but she wasn't sure she was willing to let him stay at Tara.

The thought of going back to the huge house on Peachtree Street with only one of her children unnerved her. The house felt empty without Rhett and Bonnie. If Wade did not come back Scarlett was fearful that she and Ella would drown in the home by themselves. Scarlett was not sure she could handle any more abandonment right now. She opened her mouth to say so but stopped herself immediately. Scarlett furrowed her brows slightly and sighed. She started again before Will cut her off.

"I see your hesitation. If I didn't think he wasn't right and serious about this I wouldn't be bringing it to you. I remember what it felt like when your family took me in during the war. I fell in love with this place and I see so much of myself in him." Will reached out and took one of his sister-in-law's hands in his and sighed. "He's struggling, Scarlett. Wade told me that things at home have been difficult since Bonnie's death. This is healing for him. You know better than anyone the restorative nature of Tara."

Tears pricked at the corners of Scarlett's eyes. She knew Wade had been struggling since his aunt had died but she did not realize that the tumultuous relationship with Rhett was playing a detrimental role to his psyche. Why had he not come to her about this? Was she that unfortunate of a mother that she didn't see when her own children were hurting? Scarlett turned her face away from Will's and attempted to nonchalantly wipe a tear away from her face.

"It's alright, Scarlett," Will said quietly.

"Rhett and I have been going through a bit of a row for a while," Scarlett said quietly taking her hand back. "I thought I had kept them from the worst of it. Does Wade know? Have I ruined my children?" Her voice cracked slightly.

Will shook his head, "Children tend to be more flexible than adults but they're far more perceptive than we give them credit for. I don't think he knows the extent, but he recognizes that something is off." Scarlett sighed and ran her hands across her face.

"Everyone has marital issues at least once in their marriage, Scarlett," Will stated. Scarlett shot him a cold look. "Don't give me that look. You and the children are always welcome here but you wouldn't have stayed at Tara for three months if you weren't trying to get some space. It all works out in the end. Suellen and I didn't speak for six months a few years back. Now we're expecting another child. Sometimes two people just need a little perspective. It's been a very hard year for the two of you. It's devastating losing two children back to back. Give it some time."

Scarlett nodded, "please don't tell anyone, Will. Not even Suellen."

Will paused and nodded. There was no need to tell her that Suellen could tell there was trouble in her marriage just as much as he could.

"Wade is thriving here. I cannot take him with me for my own selfish gain." She nodded to herself and tried to burry the ache of loneliness in her chest. She could not make more people miserable with her decisions. She wanted to be a better person. "He can stay here but you watch him, Will. You better teach him to prep the fields better. He's too gentle. Get him dirty if he's to be a real cultivator."

Will chuckled, "Don't you worry, he left the field covered today."

Scarlett smiled sadly and sighed, "Ella and I will miss his company at Peachtree Street."

Her brother-in-law rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, a stench of stale sweat hovered between them. "About Ella, Scarlett, she… well, she isn't keen on leaving her brother and cousins. She's enjoyed the company of our daughters. I spoke with Suellen and we'd be happy to have them both for a while longer."

Something ugly reared inside Scarlett and a sound somewhere between a laugh and a weep slipped from her lips. Rhett wanted nothing to do with her and now her children couldn't be bothered with her either. She knew she was never and overly affectionate mother was desperate for any type of affection and their desire to stay at Tara seemed like a personal affront. "God, I must be terrible," She cackled under her breath.

"Don't think of it that way, Scarlett. Remember how much you love this plantation? They love it just as much as you do. They're also looking for a little peace after the year they've had. Do not hold it against them that they want to hold on to some semblance of paradise just a little longer."

"I am scared, Will." She retorted, an edge still lacing her words. "I don't want to be alone in that house. There are too many ghosts there. Maybe that is selfish of me, but the thought of going back to Atlanta by myself is daunting."

"I understand but think about the children's needs as well. You've not been yourself either. You don't sleep. Taking some time for yourself might be more helpful in the long run."

Scarlett hated to admit that she knew Will was right- she had been distracted and more inattentive than usual since Melly died. She took in a sharp breath. Speaking with Rhett and rebuilding their life together was her main priority. She knew that left little in the way of mental capacity to care for her children properly. She had Mammy, of course, but if she and Rhett were to really focus on their marriage she did not want children to be privy to any potential hostility between them. Despite abandoning them for the last few months, she wanted Wade and Ella to love him.

She nodded curtly, "I will send you monthly payments for their stay." Will began to protest, but Scarlett cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I will not hear it, Will. I am not taking no for an answer. I will send monthly payments for food and clothes. Now, I will speak to Wade and Ella before I head to the depot."

Scarlett turned to him, taking one of his hands. She tried to smile but her face held a flickering semblance of her hurt. He saw a glimmer of the O'Hara resolve in her, but the raw, purple bruises under her eyes betrayed her. "Thank you." She patted the top of his hand and turned to enter the house.

"Miss Scarlett, we must go," Prissy said anxiously as soon as she entered the foyer. "Pork is bringing your bags outside."

Scarlett nodded, "I am ready. Please retrieve Wade and Ella and tell them to meet me outside. I'd like to speak with them."

The children appeared before their mother a few minutes later looking anxious. Wade was certain his mother was going to be irritated with him for asking Will if he could stay and help at Tara. He waited for a reprimand but was instead greeted with a hug and kiss on his forehead. He glanced at his mother skeptically. "You could have come to me and told me you wanted to stay at Tara instead of asking through your uncle. I want the best for the two of you and if that means staying here for a while longer then that's fine. I wish you were coming home, but I understand the beauty of this place."

Wade's face broke out into a smile and his eyes shone with excitement. Ella hugged her mother's legs. Scarlett felt a pang of regret in her chest that she had been dangerously close to overruling their wishes and bringing them home. How could she deprive them of what little happiness they've felt in many months? "Will you write, Mama?"

"I will write often. Wade will help you with your letters." Wade nodded. She kissed the tops of her children's heads and wished them goodbye.

The journey home was full of anxiety and excitement. Rhett had been looking for her; there was no mistake about it. His letter even said so in so many words. It must be a positive sign that he wanted to see her again. Despite her happiness over his letter, there was a foreboding sense of dread swirling in the pit of her stomach. She wondered what he had left for her.

She ran through many scenarios in her mind until she finally made it home to Peachtree Street late that evening. The apprehension revolving in her stomach for hours made her tremble as she entered the home. It seemed much bigger and much more grandiose than she remembered it after so many months away at Tara. Mammy greeted Scarlett with a warm smile and an embrace but there was an unusual look in her eye when Scarlett inquired about Rhett and the post.

"Now, Miss Scarlett, you've had a long day. Save that for tomorrow. It can wait."

Scarlett cocked her head and narrowed her eyes, her hands still trembling. "No, Mammy I'd like to see what Rhett left. If it was not important he would not have written to me." Mammy stalled, trying to avert Scarlett's attention, but she was having none of it. "Mammy, I will not save this until tomorrow. Give me the paperwork."

Mammy closed her eyes slowly and sighed. She left the room and returned holding a few letters and a large envelope. She handed the correspondence to Scarlett and something resembling pity flashed in Mammy's dark eyes.

With Mammy's fleeting look, panic slowly started washing over Scarlett in waves. She took the letters with trembling hands and made her way to the dining room, shutting the large oak doors behind her. She threw the miscellaneous letters on the table and stared at the large yellow envelope in her hands. She did not recognize the script and there was no return address.

She placed the packet on the table gingerly and made her way to the cabinet in the corner of the room. She poured herself a generous glass of amber brandy from a half-full crystal decanter and drank half before she turned to face the envelope. Slowly she tore open the sachet and pulled a stack of papers. She barely unsheathed the papers before the words CERTIFICATE OF DIVORCE caught her eye at the top of the pristine document.

The room began to spin. She swallowed the last half of her glass before slamming the glass down onto the table and bellowing, "God, damn him."


	6. Chapter Six

Scarlett finished the entire decanter of brandy that night. She could barely stomach the thought of reading the divorce paperwork without the help of a little amber courage. She had willed herself to sift through the files after cursing Rhett’s name but she could only get past the headline that poked through the top of the sachet. In her mind she damned him again and again, but somewhere in the depths of her inebriated haze she recognized that she was less angry with him for sending the paperwork than she was with herself for being foolish enough to believe he still cared for her. How could she have been so daft to believe he wanted to see her? Rhett had never been anything but abundantly clear that he desired an end to their marriage. He never wrote, he never came to find her, and he was steady in the fact that he had not changed his mind about leaving her yet she still clung to the faint hope that he saw reason. 

He did not need to see reason, she did. 

She buried her face in her hands and sighed, a bubbled sob spilling over her lips. Blind hope had made of fool of her. She could see that clearly now. While she could think of nothing but Rhett and the next time she might see him, he was preparing the divorce papers to be rid of her forever. She had no one to blame but herself. She had been the catalyst that set fire to their marriage. It was she that openly pinned for another man despite secretly loving her husband. What good is love if it’s kept to oneself? A half-love meant only to cause heartache. She never knew what it was like to feel a full, complete love so she spent her whole life living between two half-loves only to immolate her marriage to the one person who had truly cared about her. The thought was harrowing and despite her best efforts Scarlett could not drown it from her mind even after ingesting another three fingers of brandy. 

Staring, unblinking and more than a little drunk, Scarlett snarled at the envelope before her on the table. Her nostrils flared and her lips trembled as she tried desperately to control her emotions. She had been vacillating between fury and despair all evening and in this moment, she could see only red. 

Yes, the faults in her marriage were predominantly hers, but it was just like Rhett to shut her out without having the decency of a final conversation. He always ran when they had marital issues. Scarlett didn’t remember the last time she had been privy to a conversation about their marriage that wasn’t completely one sided. Granted, she too had a tendency of alienating him when it came to decisions regarding their union, but had she not learned from the best? Scarlett felt slighted in her deep embarrasment. She had been sure he would change his mind. She had been so sure. He had been in love with her and chased her for years and finally when he had her completely, he was ready to admit defeat? No. The obstinacy in her would not accept it. 

Scarlett seized the envelope off of the table and ripped the divorce paperwork from its sachet angrily. If he was divorcing her, she wanted to understand on what grounds. She tore through the pages, her hands trembling with rage before she stumbled upon it. 

Desertion. 

The word leapt off the white page and for a moment all Scarlett could do was fixate on those nine letters. She fell headfirst into it and felt it devour her whole, suffocating her momentarily until her eyes burned with its intent: willful and continuing desertion. As suddenly as she felt the sting of the meaning, her lips pulled back into a mirthless smile and she began to laugh. 

A chuckle at first, Scarlett’s merriment grew before tearing through her body until she was doubled over in her seat, cackling. She haphazardly threw the papers back onto the table. She tried to cover her mouth to stifle her cacophonous laughter with little success. Desertion. How rich. She swiped at her eyes to brush away the humorless tears that had begun streaming down her cheeks. She could feel the alcohol now burning through her breast and making her dizzy. 

Desertion. 

No court of law in South would grant him a divorce on the grounds of willful and continuing desertion when it was he himself that abandoned her. He knew exactly where to find her and he did. He wrote her a letter; there was proof that he knew where she was. There was no neglect on her part. The fact that he had the gall to contend neglect was so unbelievably preposterous that Scarlett had a difficult time calming herself. Just as she thought she might be ready to read the rest of the divorce paperwork her laughter picked up again. 

She flung her body backwards, splaying herself across the high-backed chair. Her right arm spread over the side of the armrest while her left covered her shaking face. Scarlett would later identify this exact moment in time as the instant she broke. Up until this moment she had been teetering precariously on the edge of unraveling. She had lost her children, their affection, her childhood, her family, her closest confidant, and now-finally- her great love. While she continued to howl with mirthless laughter, acrid tears carved rivulets in her sallow cheeks. She felt herself slip irrevocably into a dissociative miasma landing somewhere between all encompassing panic and numbness. 

Desertion. 

The dichotomy of the two opposing diametrically opposed sensations caused Scarlett to shiver uncontrollably. She swiped her hand across her face, trying to clear her eyes as best she could. Far away it sounded like someone was screaming. It was an ugly sound, Scarlett thought, strangled and hoarse. It unnerved her to hear that strangled sound mixed with her own dour laughter. 

Scarlett struggled to her feet so she could ask Mammy to please ask the screams to stop. It wasn’t until she steadied herself against the edge of the table and caught sight of her own reflection did she realize that she was the one that was screaming. 

The sight of her disheveled reflection stopped Scarlett. She could barely recognize the woman before her. The woman had her emerald eyes, her ebony hair, and her petite frame, but that is where the recognition stopped. This woman before her was unhinged. Her cheeks had an ashen pallor that made her look ghostly and a wildness in her eyes that was jarring. For a long time Scarlett watched helplessly as she slipped slowly into the beginnings of a psychological break- laughing and screaming simultaneously. Somewhere deep in the shadow parts of her mind Scarlett berated herself. She deserved this. She deserved all of this and she would watch as her world burned around her. She might even help it if she could. 

Scarlett and her reflection observed each other like this for a long while. Her thoughts swayed lazily trying to piece together an incoherent plan that was beginning to take shape in her mind. “Mammy!” she called out. After a silent moment of no response, Scarlett cried out a second time, “Mammy, please fetch me my quill and ink!”

Teetering on her feet, Scarlett turned to sit back down at the table just as she heard the rustle of Mammy’s feet. In her splintered state, Scarlett felt both heavy and dangerous. She was shaking uncontrollably; somehow she knew she was in no position to make rational decisions and yet something had snapped within her. What did she have to care about anymore? Nothing. She was impulsive- she always had been. That was one of the things Rhett had once loved the most about her. While Scarlett watched herself break, she made up her mind to be the exact being he believed her to be. 

Mammy entered the room cautiously. She had stayed up listening for Scarlett all evening. Mammy knew no good news came in that packet. She had received the gentleman who delivered it. A stoic fellow, dressed impeccably. He had said this was to be read by Mrs. Butler and Mrs. Butler only. Mammy swallowed hard, “Mrs. Scarlett, are you alright?”

Mammy nearly gasped when Scarlett turned in her seat. Scarlett’s face was blanched the color of snow and her eyes were wild and terrifying. “Mammy,” Scarlett croaked. There was a defiant yet defeated look to Scarlett that suddenly horrified Mammy. Mammy began to reach out to Scarlett to take her into her arms but Scarlett stopped her. “No, thank you, Mammy I am fine. I just have to write a quick note.” Mammy did not fail to notice the monotone tenor of Scarlett’s voice. 

“Are you alright, Miss Scarlett?” Mammy asked gingerly. Glancing at the empty decanter on the table. 

“Yes, Mammy I am fine. Please give me one moment. I’d like this letter out first thing in the morning.” She seized the packet of papers lying on the table. She flipped the last page of the document over and wrote:

Rhett, 

I was not aware that desertion could be defined so loosely. If you wish to discuss the terms of this document you know where you may find me. 

All my love,   
Scarlett Butler

Scarlett dropped her quill unceremoniously on the table. She felt an electric panic seer through her as she glanced down at her scribbled writing. It felt as if she was hanging above herself watching something she could not stop. Slowly she folded the note and thrust it into an empty envelope addressing it to the return address. Her head was swimming. She needed to lie down.

She turned in her seat and saw Mammy staring at her, her kind face wrinkled in concern. “Please, Mammy none of that.” Scarlett tried to laugh but a strangled sound somewhere between mirth and rage slipped from between her lips. It startled Mammy so much that she didn’t notice when Scarlett slipped the envelope into her hand. 

“Take care of this first thing in the morning, yes?” Scarlett stated before unsteadily brushing past Mammy on her way to bed. 

_______________________________

“Can you believe this?” Rhett hissed, throwing the note down unceremoniously on his lawyer’s desk. He had charged into the office with no warning and incensed. 

Rhett’s lawyer, William Ahlborn, took up the folder paper and sighed. “This is not what I had hoped, but it was not altogether unexpected. I know we had hoped she would sign the papers outright but we spoke about this situation as a possibility when we drew up the documents. This is not a guaranteed divorce. We are really building the case for your divorce on a technicality.”

Rhett paced the length of the office trying to calm his nerves. “Is there nothing we can do?” 

William shook his head. “We changed your primary residence to South Carolina, but her residency is still Georgia and your name is still on that deed. It would be easier to grant a divorce here; Georgia is much more stringent on divorce. At this point our best hope is to continue to send her the paperwork and document all of her responses. If she continues to write these notes back, we can bolster our claim that she is willfully deserting the marriage.” 

“And what if she doesn’t?” 

“We will document the submittal of all paperwork to your wife to show her negligence in responding.”

Rhett stopped pacing abruptly and turned to face his lawyer. “I want this done and I want this done well.” William did not fail to notice the fire in his client’s inky black eyes. His anger was so palpable that William could almost see the tremors of rage in Rhett’s body.

William motioned to the empty chair in front of his desk. Rhett shook his head curtly. He could not sit down. 

William sighed for a second time and rubbed his left hand over his face, “I can assure you I will do everything in my power to gather enough of a paper trail to implicate your wife. It will not be easy but this is not my first divorce.”

“Nor your last, I’m sure.” Rhett quipped. The two caught eyes briefly and the lawyer nodded. 

A beat passed between the two before William opened a drawer of his desk and produced a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “I usually reserve this for good news, but it looks like you could benefit from a stiff one.”

Rhett was grateful for the man’s attempt at kindness and he finally took a seat. William passed Rhett the glass and he downed the amber liquid in one swallow.

William took a swig of his own drink before leaning back in his high-backed chair. He picked up the note for a second time. “You know,” William took a second sip of whiskey, “she’s quite clever.” He reached over the desk to pour Rhett a second glass. “Not everyone would have been so astute to see that we’re using a rather broad definition of abandonment.”

“She’s too clever.” Rhett retorted and reached out his hand for the scribbled message. He glanced down at her erratic signature and took a twisted pleasure in knowing how much pain this had undoubtedly caused her. He took the quill from off his lawyer’s desk and penned a dark reply before passing it back to William. “Send this.”

“I think it is best if you do not reply to her messages-”

Rhett cut him off with a wave of his hand, “Send this.”


	7. Chapter Seven

This is not up for discussion. You are a woman highly motivated by money. I will pay you any amount you desire if you concede. Sign the divorce papers. Name your price.   
Rhett Butler

Scarlett unsteadily traced the sprawl of Rhett’s signature over and over again until the oils in her fingers stained the paper yellow and wore away some of the ink. Rhett had sent the brusque note with a second copy of the divorce papers three months ago in response to her initial, drunken reply. Since then she had received six additional copies of the divorce petition and a number of increasingly hostile letters from her husband. Each new message conveyed a fervent enmity that wounded its reader, but somewhere in the dark spaces of her mind Scarlett recognized he, too, was becoming unhinged. The realization gave her little pleasure, but at the very least she knew she was not the only one hurting. 

This was not a love letter by any means, but she coveted the script nonetheless. His letters were the only trace of him in the Peachtree house. He had taken his clothes, he had taken his things, and he had taken back his loved but he sent her these. It was a morose memento; it reminded her that despite it all it was real. 

Scarlett laughed unevenly, trembling as she reached to tuck the letter into a book on her bedside table and reached for the bottle of laudanum next to it. Dr. Meade had prescribed the bitter liquid after Mammy had sent for him during the second month of her self-isolation. The state of Scarlett was enough to concern the doctor; he had never seen such melancholia in a woman. 

She had become dangerously frail, her skin stretched over her bones like delicate wax paper. It looked as though if you touched her the wrong way she would fall apart in your hands. Her eyes were glossy and Scarlett barely took notice of him while he completed his examination. He inquired into her state and she merely responded that she was tired, that was all. When the doctor probed as to her husband’s whereabouts Scarlett replied that he was away on business and she did not want to worry him. She was fine. 

She was fine. 

That is what she told herself every morning when she watched the sun kiss the horizon after another sleepless night. It is what she told Mammy when the aging housemaid force-fed Scarlett eggs in the morning and biscuits in the evening. It is what she told herself when she read her husband’s enraged letters at her refusal to sign the divorce petition. It is what she told herself every night when she stared at the clear bottle of laudanum on her side table and wished for a modicum of peace. 

But the truth is she was not fine. She had not been fine for nearly half a year. Scarlett tried in vain to keep her sanity and her O’Hara resolve, but she was exhausted. Scarlett spent sixteen years carrying the responsibility of her family’s monetary security and safety but now she was tired. She did not have the strength to think of tomorrow anymore. Every day was a tomorrow and every day stung just as much as the last. 

Two weeks after Rhett’s lawyer posted the initial petition, Scarlett sent a long, gentle letter to Rhett. She swallowed her pride and asked him to please come home and have a civil conversation. He owed her that much. His response was sharp: the time for civility had long since passed. If she was unwilling to sign he had nothing to say to her. All correspondence should be directed to his lawyer. 

His words stung. Scarlett hoped that their relationship would have meant more to him; it certainly had for her. They were friends for many years before she agreed to marry him. She wanted to fight for that friendship if for nothing else, but she weary down to her very core. Scarlett knew that if she gave in to that weariness and acquiesced to his requests than some day when she felt less somnolent she would regret her damned weakness. 

So she waited. 

Three months went by and with each month came more petitions and more letters. Scarlett eventually stopped responding to them altogether. When a new beige envelope came for her in the post, Scarlett burned it without reading it. She knew she was being evasive, but she needed more time. She felt that if she were mentally and physically stronger she would be able to come up with a plan on winning Rhett back. 

Scarlett never got better, however. With each passing day the circles under her eyes became darker and her trembling hands became more persistent and less steady. The waves of melancholia hit with renewed strength with every memory Rhett’s letters brought back. Eventually, Scarlett resigned herself to her bedroom where she spent the passing of her days in a drug-induced haze. Laudanum dulled the throbbing ache in her chest and made it tolerable. It made her feel light. It made her feel real for a few fleeting hours. 

The opium tincture pulled at the corners of her consciousness and played tricks on her faltering mind. Sometimes she felt sharp and others dysphoric. During her flashes of laudanum induced euphoria she continued her correspondence with her aunts Eulalie and Pauline, Aunt Pitty, and her children. She sent money to Suellen for care for her children. She brushed her own hair. She paced the room. As soon as the effects started to wear off, Scarlett would descend deeper info a profound melancholia that would last for days. 

News of Scarlett becoming a recluse circulated Atlanta. No one had seen her since her return from Clayton County and the town allowed their minds to wander. There was a rumor that Scarlett was pregnant and on bed rest, another claiming she had contracted smallpox, some even speculated that divorce from her husband was imminent. Aunt Pitty tried to call with Beau a number of times but was turned away by Mammy claiming sickness. After a month and a half Aunt Pitty ceased her visits and instead penned her niece long, fretting letters asking Scarlett to please confirm or deny any of the town rumors. Scarlett refused. She was tired of answering. She just wanted peace to work through her own thoughts. 

And solitude she had until Uncle Henry Hamilton began calling in the spring of 1874. The first time Henry called, he brought his nephew, Ashley, and his son Beau with him in hopes that an old friend might coerce Scarlett out of her home for a leisurely stroll. Laced with laudanum, Scarlett declined outright bidding Mammy to send the three of them away immediately. Hearing Ashley’s name alone was enough to send her into a self-destructive spiral. She lashed out at herself, replaying every mistake she had made in her head ad nauseum until she became physically ill and curled into herself on her bed shaking for hours. Henry tried again two weeks later to the same treatment. The third time he refused to leave until he saw his niece even if it meant staying all night. 

“Miss Scarlett,” Mammy said quietly, pushing open the bedroom door of Scarlett’s bedroom. The stale air laid thick over the room like an unwashed blanket. “Mr. Hamilton is downstairs and says he will not leave until he sees you.”

“Let him sit then,” Scarlett murmured, rubbing her temples, “I am tired. Did you explain to him that I am ill?” She was coming off a laudanum high and feeling the effects in her body. She felt heavy and weak simultaneously and her hand tremors increased tenfold. A migraine settled behind her eyes and made her so lightheaded she could barely stand.

“Yes, ma’am but he is adamant. He said he would wait as long as it took to see you.” Mammy began rifling through Scarlett’s dressed before pulling out her mourning blacks. “I think it would be good for you, Miss Scarlett, to see your uncle. You haven’t seen anyone since you’ve been back to Atlanta and it’s no good. You can’t keep to this room forever.”

“It’s not forever, Mammy.” Scarlett said quietly, her voice hoarse from disuse. “I just need more time. I just need more time to get myself right again.”

“More time wont do you any good. Get yourself up and let’s get you dressed.”

Scarlett had no additional say in the matter. She sighed, nodding absentmindedly. “Alright, Mammy, help me please.” Scarlett numbly allowed Mammy to manipulated her body into her dress and brush her hair while she tried to steel her emotions. The garment hung precariously loose on Scarlett’s withered frame despite Mammy’s best efforts to cinch the garment. With each tug of the stays, Scarlett breathed deep, summoning any strength she still possessed. Uncle Henry was no fool. He would see through her immediately if she did not assemble her composure thoroughly and she was not ready to answer any questions. Not now. She just needed more time. 

Scarlett was so acutely aware of the heavy pounding of her heart in her chest as she descended the stairs to the library. It reverberated in her throat and ears, bouncing off her ribs in every direction before settling in her stomach creating a pit of nerves. The shock waves of her heartbeats seemed to shake her at her very core. She focused on her shaky breaths and her steady steps. She would face her uncle like she faced the war, head on and unafraid. He was her uncle, after all. There was nothing to be afraid of. 

“Scarlett,” Uncle Henry exclaimed, standing as she entered the room. The sight of her took him aback. He was aware that she had been ill these past months, but nothing prepared him for the withered sight of his niece-in-law. She straightened her shoulders and attempted a smile but her effort was in vain. The defiant woman he had seen six months ago at Melanie’s funeral was no more. This whisper of a creature before him seemed an utter shell that threated to disintegrate at any moment. 

“Uncle Henry,” Scarlett forced a smile. Henry noticed that it did not meet her eyes. She continued softly, “It’s wonderful to see you. My apologies for not receiving you sooner: I have been quite ill these last few months and have not been in a place to accept visitors. I hope you understand.” She gestured to a chair, inviting him to sit. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Of course. I wanted to make sure you were all right. I had heard from my sister that you had taken ill.” Henry lowered himself down into the high-backed chair. “I pray you are regaining your strength.”

Scarlett bowed her head and grimaced slightly before catching herself. Henry noticed the vacancy in her blazing green eyes. She took a seat across from him and seemed to sigh into every bend of her body, “Every day is a new day.” 

“However ambiguous, I understand the sentiment,” Henry retorted, reaching across the table and taking his nieces hand. She glanced down at the liver spotted valleys of his skin over hers. She realized that this was the first time someone had touched her since coming home to Atlanta. Tears threatened the corners of her eyes and she blinked them away forcefully. “You may drop whatever pretenses you feel you owe me. In all seriousness, Scarlett, how are you?”

Her response was mindless, slipping out of her like water, “I am fine, Uncle Henry.” The corners of her mouth faltered in its forced grin. 

“Scarlett,” he started, squeezing her hand gently.

“Really, Uncle Henry,” she whispered, clearing her throat to cover the sob that unraveled at the seam of her throat. She breathed shakily, burying her thoughts deep into the bends of her mind. She would not cry. Not here, not now. “I am fine.”

“You look anything but fine.” When she did not respond, Henry sighed. “The children? Also fine I presume?”

Scarlett nodded slowly, her eyes drifting in and out of focus before landing on Henry’s face. “Yes, they’re with my sister at Tara. I heard from them yesterday. Wade has taken strongly to life on the plantation. My brother-in-law, Will, has him working very diligently. Ella is enjoying time with her cousins. I think they needed some time away from Atlanta after Melanie passed.”

“I think we all felt the need to escape after my niece’s death,” Henry said quietly. “She was the best of us. Taken too soon.”

Scarlett inhaled in a shaky breath; “I would give anything to see her once more. There are so many things I wish I could say. So many things I wish I could do over again.”

He nodded, squeezing her hand a second time. “It does not do us a service to dwell on the things we cannot change. We can only aspire to say the words we wished we could have and be better people to the ones we love in the future.”

“That’s very profound, Uncle Henry.” 

“Yes, well, learning to lose people becomes an art at my age. I’ve buried more loved ones than you can imagine and lost more friends than I care to admit. You have as well. We are survivors, you and I, and that is both a blessing and a curse.”

“More curse than blessing, to be sure.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Scarlett never felt particularly partial to her deceased husband’s uncle until now. The small kindness he was showing her made her want to throw her arms around his neck and embrace him. It had been so long since anyone had shown her kindness.

Henry cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “I am sorry to admit, Scarlett, that checking up on your wellbeing is not my only motive for calling today.”

Her brows furrowed leaving a delta of lines at the bridge of her nose. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Henry extricated his hand from hers and bent to retrieve his worn, leather briefcase. He clicked the brass mounted spring lock open and pulled out a sheaf of paper. His eyes met hers and he issued a sincere apology with his steady gaze. “This was sent to me by a law office in Columbus, South Carolina. It was addressed to you by way of my legal services.” Henry placed the petition before his niece, sliding the paper slowly to her across the table. “Were you made aware of the petition?”

She let out a gasp, sharp and staccato, and it hung in the air between them for a long moment. Scarlett knew what it was before she looked down. The room spun around her as she trained her eyes on Henry, not daring to glance at the divorce paperwork in fear that her carefully crafted appearance would instantly crumble. She kept her wide eyes on her uncle’s face as she reached a trembling and out to retrieve the paperwork. She swallowed hard before slowly lowering eyes. 

For a long, heady moment Scarlett stared down at the petition. She knew Rhett had been serious about divorcing her since she received the first summons, but the real weight of his desire finally settled in her chest and a tear rolled down her pale cheek. She knew he had a tendency to be cruel, but she never expected him to bring others into their mess. She had foolishly thought that if she waited long enough to gather her thoughts and emotions she could handle the situation on her own. Never in a million years did she believe that he might entreat her family to do his bidding. Their marriage was really over. She wasn’t sure there was ever a chance to come back from this. 

She took a deep breath and a quivering laugh tumbled out from between her teeth. She locked eyes with her uncle and her eyes were swimming with tears, “I’m sorry, Uncle Henry.” She managed to whisper before the floodgates opened and the tears came. 

Scarlett handed the paperwork back to her uncle before beginning to swipe away her tears. “So you knew.” It was more a statement than a question. 

“Yes.”

“How many petitions has he sent?” 

Scarlett did not even try to cover her face as the tears fell silently down her hollow cheeks. She felt cracked open, exposed, and too overwhelmed with shame to hide it. “Six. They came with a number of letters from Rhett.”

“Please tell me you did not reply to any of his correspondences.” Scarlett sat silently before him for a long moment before nodding gently. Henry groaned, running a hand down his face before stopping at his bearded chin. “What was in those letters and what were your responses?”

“Rhett sent me a letter when I was at Tara and asked that I return home immediately for urgent business. When I came home I found the first petition. I wrote back that I didn’t know dissertation could be defined so loosely and if he wanted to discuss this civilly then he knew where to find me. He offered me money if I signed. I refused and begged him to reconsider and come home. I’ve since received a number of incensed letters from him to which I hate not responded.”

“Have you saved any of them?”

Scarlett shook her head. “I burned them. I thought that if I put some time between us that he might eventually change his mind. That I could change his mind.” 

Henry sighed, long and deep through his nose. He began chewing the inside of his lower lips as he rubbed the stubble of his beard. “We’ve fought before.” Scarlett went on, “he has always come back. Why won’t he come back now?”

“He is trying to bait you.” Henry said, plainly. “They are claiming desertion, which I think is utter nonsense and frankly cowardly. What they are most likely doing is saving and documenting all your correspondence showing that you acknowledge that he is in South Carolina, but are refusing to go to him yourself. They are hoping that eventually they will wear you down and you will sign. If not, this could be a very long and very arduous process.”

“How long?” 

“Georgia divorce law is very sparse and desertion principles are only granted if there is willful and continuing desertion by either part for a period of three years, but it could be longer than that. There is also no guarantee that the divorce grant will be total. More likely it will be granted from bed and board in which case you’re legally separated but neither of you may marry another person. You will still technically be married.”

“Oh, God.” Scarlett whispered, burying her face in her hands. Three years. She could not imagine feeling like this for the rest of her life. She would be tethered to him forever but he would be so far beyond reach. She wanted neither to be separated indefinitely nor to lose him forever.

“You do not wish for a divorce?” He asked, gently. 

“No, not at all.” Scarlett croaked between her silent tears. “I love him, Uncle Henry. We have had troubles for quite a while, yes, but I love him. I wish he would allow me the courtesy of a conversation so that we might be able to discuss some of the issues in our marriage. I do not want his money. I do not want his malice. I just want him. I want peace.” She looked up at her uncle pleadingly. 

His eyes softened as he shook his head, “I am not sure that you can have both.”

Her uncle’s words felt like blows. She felt the air leave her body and all the emotions she had been trying to suppress for the last six months opened within her like a dam. She had known that he no longer wanted her, but she had hoped beyond hope that he might reconsider. Here, laid before her plainly, her uncle told her there was no peace. There would be at least three more years of torment. Three more years of divorce petitions. Three more years of angry, impassioned letters. Three more years of feeling like she was drowning. Three more years of drowning him in turn. They were torturing each other. 

“What do I do?” Scarlett asked quietly. 

Henry shook his head. “You don’t have many good options, Scarlett. You can ignore the divorce packets or have me legally intervene on your behalf, but if you do that you bolster his argument for desertion. Unless he can prove that you were mentally incapacitated at the time of marriage, were adulterous, or habitually intoxicated, I see this dragging on for quite a while. This will most likely end in a separation of bed and board no matter what course we take.”

“But I told you I do not want a divorce. I want him to come home. I want him to allow me to love him.” Her voice trembled as she continued, “I have made so many mistakes. So many. I have been foolish and impetuous and I cannot take that back despite how much I wish to but I want to try. I want to be a better person. I want to be able to love him the way he deserves.”

“You deserve to be loved too.” Scarlett shook her head slowly refusing to look at him. “Look at me, Scarlett.” Henry had always defined his niece as headstrong, defiant. Now there was no determination in her eyes. The rebellious willpower she had had as a young girl was gone. She sat before him, a deflated husk of a woman. She was desperate in her unrequited love and it had whittled her down to nothing. “What the two of you are doing right now in unhealthy. You are torturing each other for the sport of it. I know you do not want a divorce, but you cannot force someone to love you. 

“What I am about to say is not commonplace, but something you need to hear. I do not believe love can altogether disappear, but sometimes it is not as beautiful as we think it might be. Sometimes two people with the best intentions are lethal to one another. The purest form of love occasionally means allowing someone the time to breathe without the other.”

“But, I love him.” Her voice cracked precariously. “Uncle Henry, I love him so much.”

He nodded. “I know, but is this the life you want? Do you want to love a man unable to love you in return? It will be a solitary life, one with little joy and eventually all the love you think you have for him will turn to animosity in your heart. Look at yourself, Scarlett. Look at what he is already doing to you. I cannot speak for you, but I can speak from experience. You may love him, but he is no gentleman. You have all the legal recourse to divorce him yourself if you desired. I will help you in every way that I can, but the most humane thing may be to let you both go for now. If he is meant for you, you will find a way.”

Scarlett turned her gaze away from Henry and bit the inside of her lips. He was right, she knew, but his words broke the last bit of resolve she had held tight to. Her shoulders convulsed in silent sobs and she felt the edges of her reality crumble. She had wanted someone to tell her to never give up. She had wanted someone to tell her to fight for her marriage, but even her uncle and lawyer was telling her to give in. 

He was right. She was refusing Rhett’s divorce because she was selfish. She wanted to love him the way he had always wanted, but the reality was that he no longer wanted it. Forcing him to receive her love would breed even more animosity between them. She could not bear the thought of him hating her forever. She could hardly bear it now. Perhaps if she let him go now they could be friends again. Perhaps someday he would forgive her. Perhaps someday she could forgive herself. 

Scarlett nodded softly to herself. She wanted Rhett to be purely, unabashedly happy even if that meant he was no longer hers to love. Perhaps setting him free meant she loved him the most.

“Would you please set up a meeting with Rhett’s lawyer for me, Uncle Henry?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all- this story is published on another site. I recently found out about Archive of Our Own and figured I would try my hand here as well. I began this story in 2006 under a different name and wildly different life experience. It sat abandoned for nearly a decade before I found it on an old hard drive and fell in love with it all over again. My muse has hit me with a big force. I have a few chapters written and will be releasing them periodically.


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